I Wonder What They're Doing Now
by Shinigami Illusion
Summary: 4 years after they split up...Heero is paralyzed..and perhaps by chance, the pilots meet up again ^.~ To talk good times gone by..and some other...nasty...weird...stuff..=D *Didn't know what category it would fit into, really o.O'* R&R *FINISHED!!*
1. Chapter 1 - The nightmares and the E-Mai...

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
"Heero! Watch out, on your left!" came Duos voice over the intercom system. The Wing Zero veered around just in time to slash an enemy mobile suit clean in half, leaping away to avoid the explosion that occurred when the circuits were cut. Not too far off, the Deathscythe took care of another two enemy suits, attacking its next prey with deranged ferocity masking the hurt its pilot really felt for killing people. For taking lives. For being in the war.  
  
"Duo. Suit. 4 'o clock." Heeros voice echoed for a nano-second in Duo's mind and he forcefully whipped his Gundam around, impaling the dark green mobile suit on the metal fist of the Gundam.  
  
"That was a different way to tackle it." Heero commented, a slight smirk creasing his face. Duo grinned back, tossing his braid over his shoulder and proceeding to detonate the damaged suit in a fiery explosion.  
  
"Mission complete." he heard Heeros voice say from in front of him, and he loosened his grip on the controls he was holding slightly, taking a deep breath. It always left him slightly shaky, however much well he did his job as a Gundam Pilot. You can never get used to killing.  
  
"Allrighty, we're outta here then." came Duo's cheerful reply, and his Gundam engine revitalized itself in an explosive roar, and took off into the sky. Heero followed close after him, hand still firmly on the controls. You can never be too careful; what if some stray mobile suit suddenly appeared?  
  
Yes, what if.  
  
What followed as a blur as far as any of the pilots remembered. Explosions echoed in the air and the crimson red and hot orange flames licked the stained metal of the Wing Zero. It had wrenched itself between Duos suit and the enemy, acting as a barricade for Duo, but getting the worst damage possible itself.  
  
The Wing Zero was mangled beyond recognition, as if it has self-detonated.  
  
It's pilot wasn't any better off.  
  
Heero felt the metal cutting into his spine, slicing nerve after nerve, mangling his skin, his flesh, and his spinal cord. He took as much of it as he could, but even for the Perfect Soldier, it was too much. He passed out in shock, in pain, and possibly even the sense, of defeat.  
  
  
  
*  
  
Heero sat up in his bed, gasping for breath. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dark room, and see the familiar bulky shapes of furniture loom up against the walls. He raised his hand to wipe some dark brown hair that clung to his sweaty skin away from his face, and noticed, that his eyes were sore from salt and his lashes had a great deal of moisture to them.  
  
/=/ Another dream./=/ He though, taking a choked breath in relief. It didn't take him long to go back to his normal deadly calm state once more. Just as it had always been, through the war and after it. Even though he was no longer needed to be the Perfect Soldier, the trait of his emotionless exterior always remained. He still, as he always had, acted like a robot. The only part of him that proved he must be partly related to the human race was the nightmares.  
  
Oh, the nightmares. Every night he was plagued by the memory of his very last mission. It had only been to finish up any rebel OZ bases still intact; it was, for fucks sake, not even a real part of the war. But that mission cost him, dearly. Squinting through his still clouded vision, he read off the red Westminster number on his digital alarm clock. 4 am. It wouldn't hurt him to get up now. /=/ It'll save me from another plague of a mental recollection of events, AKA nightmare /=/ he though to himself, frowning at the fact his eyes were still watery. Forcefully, he wiped his eyes on the edge of his blanket and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Stretching his tired limbs and yawning a few times, he felt ready to get out of bed.  
  
He clumsily pulled his slouching legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed the two metal crutches at the side of the bed. With some effort, he hoisted himself up on these and slowly made his way towards the mechanically driven wheelchair that was always situated at the foot of his bed. Lowering himself into the comfortable worn leather seat of the wheelchair, he left the crutches by the bed and started wheeling himself to the door. Despite having a mechanical wheelchair built for him, he preferred to use his arms. They were the only limbs still functioning, and Heero was not about to let the go to waste for nothing.  
  
He legs, were paralyzed.  
  
To him, it was an embarrassment. Once a great soldier, now…crippled, and doomed to live his life without the ability to ever walk or run again. But over the years, he had gotten accustomed to this. He lived with it fairly well, doing many things that people without his disability could do. But lately, for some odd reason, his dreams had been plagued by the memory of the cause to this situation of his.  
  
Plagued by the memory of his loss, but also, graced by the presence of someone he still, after so many years, held closest to him of all human beings in existence.  
  
Duo Maxwell.  
  
That joyous and happy soul, with his high priest collar and purple tinged eyes. And that long thick chestnut braid dangling behind him, and the unruly bangs across his face. And a smile that could brighten up even the dullest and dirties of missions. Duo really was a miracle of a human. But ever since his last mission against OZ, Heero hadn't spoken, seen, or even mailed Duo. He had his email address, somewhere in the depths of his file cabinet. He could easily look him up in the phone book, or ask any old veterans for his number, they would all know it.  
  
Perhaps it was anger that held him back. Anger that saving Duo from being mangled led to his own deterioration. Maybe, it was hurt pride, shrunken like a hunchback into a small mobile chair. Maybe to be seen like this by someone he had once dominated harshly over, like the cold dictator he was, was a mockery to his self-identity and name. Or perhaps, he didn't want Duo, who most likely knew him best of all people from the moments in which his steel mask of blank cold-ness had faded, to see him like he was now. So different. So…weak.  
  
Perhaps, it was a mixture of all those, topped off with simple fear.  
  
Sighing heavily, and dismissing the dreams from his mind, he opened the door and slowly wheeled himself down the gently sloping metal ramp that led down to the rest of his apartment. It was a fairly large on at that, provided for him by the government, situated at the top of a huge office building to allow him access to his work, most of which was post-war stuff, or things to do with the space colonies. His room, a spare one, and a spacious and convenient bathroom were located at the top. Downstairs was a large room separated into two parts, both fairly much living rooms of sorts. An arch led off into the small but comfy kitchen. Its cabinets were all set in a fairly low position to allow Heero to reach all that he needed.  
  
Easing the chair to a half in the kitchen, Heero retrieved his laptop computer from the counter and set it on the table. A few seconds later, the small inserted speaker blared the sound which is trademarked of all Windows systems, and his desktop picture of the Wing Zero appeared. Watching the picture, of the Wing Zero intact and functioning, hurt him slightly. Of course, it was only a machine. But still…it had saved him countless times in the war. It had also, swung his life in a completely different direction. Dismissing this thought, too, as it was an interruption to the perfection he lived for, Heero clicked on the email icon to take care of any business reports that had arrived during his sleep. A monotonous female voiced came from the computer.  
  
"You have 10 new messages." It informed him. Heero groaned at the thought of having to go through numerous long, boring, and time-consuming war accounts or whatnot from some other old veteran. Of course he respected those who took part in the war. But he'd been in it too. He knew what it was like and needed no one to remind him of it. But it was his job, so he patiently waited for the inbox to load. Once it did, he read off the titles of the mails out loud, starting from the bottom.  
  
"War account from an ex-OZ mobile suit pilot… Reports to be verified and corrected… Forms… forms… forms…" he sighed and rolled his eyes. Seven of the mails were forms, which usually, a large number of his mails were. He looked back at the screen to read the next message and his eyes widened.  
  
"Happy Birthday Heero!"  
  
It was labeled "Quatre Winner"  
  
It only then hit him that it was, in fact, his birthday today. But that wasn't what stunned him the most. It was the fact that one of his fellow pilots during the war had taken contact with him.  
  
"After all this time…" he muttered to himself, and hesitated as to whether he should open the mail or not. His past plagued him, and Quatre was part of it…  
  
"Get over it, Yuy. Looking back with remorse is a fault." he told himself harshly, and double clicked on the underlined hyperlink. He was met by a smiling picture of Quatre, the blond Arab with those happy eyes and still wearing his salmon pink shirt as he always did. He was standing next to a camel, petting its tufty brown neck and waving at the camera with his other hand. He looked happy where he was, and still as if he was 15 years old even though 4 years had passed since Heero had last seen him, or any other of the pilots for that matter. The email read:  
  
||Hello Heero! I finally got hold of your email address, and your location for that matter! More to the point, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Yes, I remembered it, who wouldn't? I'm back in Saudi Arabia, where – I belong – as some people would put it *grin* I've attempted to track some of the others down, but frankly, the reaches of human civilization is getting slightly too wide to do that successfully. *Insert oogly eyed, Quatre style sad face in this space*!! Well, I g2g for now. Have a smashing birthday, and I hope to see you soon! *wink wink face emoticon, Quatre style once more. Of COURSE he has his own emoticons, what were you THINKING!?*  
  
PS. I'm taking a shuttle up on Friday to see you *Poke-out-tongue face* Until then, au revoir, hej då, bye etc!  
  
Quatre||  
  
Below that were the picture and a standard computer signature that read "Smile! The world loves you! XXX Quatre"  
  
Heero smiled, and even if it was slight, it was the first smile that had come from him in a very long time. He soon recollected himself, temporarily dismissed the birthday letter for the most part from his mind, and proceeded to attempt to business.  
  
It was Sunday morning.  
  
And for a brief moment he let his mask disappear, just as he had in those moments with his friends, his fellow pilots of the Gundams.  
  
  
  
Authors Note: I suspect this is going to be…a long fic ¬¬ I apologize if I got anything wrong, it *WAS* 2 am when I wrote this ^^;; You can flame me with long complaints on my mistake if you wish *nods* Hope you enjoyed it nevertheless, please R&R! *Skips off to finish next chapter* 


	2. Chapter 2 - The beauty of infomercials.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
The next week passed by quite eventful. Heero followed his daily rituals as he always did. Getting up to get ready for the long day ahead – eating his breakfast, taking a shower, things that any normal human being would do in the precious time before the days work began. He would wheel himself out of the apartment, locking up firmly behind him, and take the elevator a few levels down to his office. Every morning, he was greeted respectfully by many he passed, but always came with the same answer he always had.  
  
"Hn", and move on. He would let nothing interrupt the course of work through out the day. It was even very rare that he ever took a lunch break, much less 4 minutes to make himself coffee. He would sit in his office, clattering away at his computer, filing important papers or approving of them. Paperwork, file work, analysis – it wasn't as easy as it sounded. He would never go to any staff parties, though he was always invited. His visits outside the building happened only two or three times a week and he was beginning to pale. It was a monotonous, planned, and actually a very boring and dull life for him to live after his experiences in the war. But until he figured out what he really wanted, or at least asked himself that question, he would remain like this.  
  
While he was busy burying himself in work, work, more work, and a topping of more work plus a side-order of work, the small Mail alert sign popped up on the screen of his computer.  
  
"Uh? I thought they sent me all work to be done at the beginning of the day…Hn, must be a late assignment." he growled, unappreciative of the un- punctual ways of his fellow office workers. He clicked on the "New Mail" link displayed in bright blue on the screen, and wondered why it had to be such an annoyingly bright color.  
  
The mail title read a boring (none), but the sender was again, after a brief pause in his mailing spree ( Called so by Heero, even after only one mail), Quatre Winner.  
  
Heero raised an eyebrow, wondering what the heck Quatre would send him mails for now. It wasn't his birthday anymore, and as far as he saw there was nothing else that was remotely important in any sense that Quatre would have to write about. Despite having tried to ignore Quatre as he'd done with all of his past life, there was this egging feeling deep inside him that just couldn't. Since Quatre's mail, however, the nightmares had stopped. As if it had given him some form of invisible cure for bad dreams. And he still hadn't deleted the previous mail. He had, during the week, often found himself opening the file and staring long at his old friend, feeling the memories of the war and their friendships within it creep back over him like gnarled old roots bursting into life once more. Again he clicked the title to read.  
  
||Hello again! You didn't reply to my mail before, I suppose you have had loads to do. That's ok though! The only thing I'm worried about is that I'm STILL planning on coming on Friday, and if you don't approve…well please, tell me now. If all is OK, I'll be arriving around, say, 5 'o clock PM. I'll take a…um…those things…TAXI! to your house/apartment/I don't know – they're bound to know where it is. Hope to see you there!"  
  
  
  
Quatre||  
  
  
  
It was Thursday  
  
Heero noted a different standard mail signature at the end of the mail this time, but still in Quatres odd, but comforting style.  
  
"I'm not happy, unless my friends are. And I want to be happy, so I will make you be =) XXX Quatre"  
  
Heero chuckled slightly to himself, hoping for dear life that no-one had heard him when he realized he had uttered another sound that an irritated one. Pausing for a minute, he looked at the 'Reply' icon at the top of the email, and after a few minutes of pondering, he clicked it. His reply was short, but to the point. And so much like him it couldn't be any more to the extreme of Heero.  
  
|| Mission Accepted ||  
  
The outgoing signature was, and would probably always remain "Omae o korosu ~ Yuy" He clicked the 'Send' button, closed the window and set his computer to go to it's plain black screen saver. Satisfied, he returned to a mass of papers that were stacked in front of him to continue the work Quatres mail had interrupted, but not anymore in an irritable sense.  
  
"Goodnight, Mr. Yuy!"  
  
"See you tomorrow, sir."  
  
Voices came from every office he passed as he made his way down the corridor to the elevators. He simple replied with a curt nod, keeping his expressionless look intact. It wasn't hard. He hardly knew these people. They were work companions and nothing more. People whom he worked side by side by to create result. Of course, the same applied to his fellow Gundam pilots. But that, even he would admit, was something completely and utterly different.  
  
Patiently he waited for the lift to reach his floor, and wheeled himself in swiftly as the light metal doors opened with the small ring of a bell accompanying it. He endured the horrendously boring elevator music all the way up to his apartment, where he exited the lift – which was much more than just your standard 'box' in this place – unlocked his door, and slipped inside. He could feel it. That odd feeling when your stomach bubbles, butterflies or whatever name it was given and your heart skips a beat from time to time. He was as excited as it was capable for someone of his kind to be. Were Duo there to read his thoughts, Heero knew his expression would be wide eyes, gaping mouth, and arched eyebrows, accompanied by some phrase like.  
  
"Shingami! Abnormal! Someone call 911-HEEROISACTINGHUMAN"  
  
Or possibly something such as:  
  
"Wai! Progress!" followed by a big Duo-hug, which Heero never really had appreciated.  
  
A typical light hearted Duo joke, that no-one, least of all Heero, actually took any offense from. Actually, his jokes were appreciated subconsciously. They did…cheer people up.  
  
"That joker…" Heero said quietly to himself, referring to Duo in an *ACTUAL* sentence. Please note that this is gasp, shock, amazement, and awe. I will give you a few moments to absorb this information.  
  
Done? On with the fic.  
  
Bored and restless, for many a reason, Heero flicked on the television and seated himself in front of it, not expecting to see anything worthy of his interest anyway. As per usual, there was TONS of viewing pleasure available, consisting to 99% infomercials – which, of course, *EVERYONE* enjoys.  
  
"Just my luck." He said grimly, and immediately his eyelids started to droop out of Boredomius Extremius to which Duo had never provided him with the full list of cures – which was quite unfortunate. The sickness often visited him nowadays (See relevant story ^^) The infomercials just went on, and on, and on, and you get the picture, for hours it seemed.  
  
"Strawberry toothpaste, the NEW revolution in kids toothpaste! Make brushing your teeth fun!"  
  
"The new Android Barbie! With a special PINK suit and her very OWN mechanical purse! Clip on dresses to go with, and so much more! *Sappy and stupid flower-power-Barbie song, sung by obsessed little girls* Baaarbie!"  
  
"Veteran war convention, dedicated to those lost in the battles. Held Tuesday from seven to 12 noon. In association with the Chang industries and their work in the department of post-war subjects"  
  
Chang Industries.  
  
Chang Wufei.  
  
But Heero, had gone into a light slumber, and the words did not transform into the name of yet another of his fellow Gundam Pilots as of yet. Slowly the evening faded into night, and Heero remained asleep in front of the television. No dreams plagued him that night either, and he remained asleep past the rise of the artificial sun, and long into the day. Heck, he deserved the rest. It was long since he had slept this well. When he finally managed to blink his eyes open the next day, it was close to 4 pm.  
  
And the infomercials, were still blabbering their mound of garbage.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
Authors Note: If you're reading this at all, drop me a line to tell me what you think of it so far. And if there really is no-one reading this fic, I'll just continue it anyway for the sake of writing ^^ If you are reading *pokes you with a newspaper* Puh-lease review? *big puppy dog eyes* 


	3. Chapter 3 - A shinigami on the windowsil...

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Heero cast a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall. The plain black hands pointed to four and twelve. He'd missed work, he knew that, but he was neither enraged nor panicked. Placing his hands on the wheels of his chair, he forced his tired arms to push him the distance to the counter below the circular clock. He grabbed a thick permanent marker, a dark one, black or blue he couldn't really make it out at this time. He crossed out the box belonging to the previous day on the calendar and looked steadily at the day, which was no in process.  
  
Friday.  
  
Of course he hadn't forgotten. Even Heero Yuy, the perfect emotionless soldier, could not ignore the feeling that was stirring up inside him simply thinking of the old memories he associated with the arrival of Quatre. He remained by the counter, staring at the little square on the piece of paper that meant so little where it was, yet held so much in it in the real world.  
  
He was starting to get anxious and restless again, wheeling around the house, as one with functioning legs would call pacing. He couldn't focus his mind on anything, though he desperately tried. It wasn't like him to be excited over…something like this. It wasn't normal. It was wrong. /=/What's wrong with me. It's just Quatre. I've seen him before./=/ he tried to tell himself, not noticing he'd clawed deep marks in the leather seat of his wheelchair.  
  
He needed something that would occupy his mind for an hour or so.  
  
And that something just slunk in through his open window, and sat on the windowsill. He didn't see it at first, with his back turned to the bright rays of sunlight that were trying to bring some color back to his cheeks and the return the glint to his eye. But two large eyes watched him from their blue-ish purple depths. A silky black tail slithered back and forth across the clean surface and four slender paws kneaded the counter the little feline was sitting on. Quite uncaring of what Heero would do, or how he would react, the slender black cat let out a loud:  
  
"MEOW!"  
  
Heero whirled around his chair, almost toppling over. Not surprisingly, his gun was grasped tightly in his hand, turning his thin knuckles white. His aim was steady, as was his eye, fixed harshly on the little cat. All it did was tilt its head to the side and look at him in a questioning way. Almost smiling.  
  
Of course he saw it was a cat the second he whirled around. But you can't be too careful. He'd learned that the hard way. And wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.  
  
"Mew?" the black entity asked him, tilting his head to the other side. It didn't understand it had a weapon of destruction pointed right at its face and silently leapt onto the floor and padded towards him. Heero moved his gun with the cat's movements, pausing when it did, speeding up when it did. The few meters between them seemed to take ages to cross. And the entire time, the cat was looking at him with those large comforting eyes, not caring how cold of a death glare it received back.  
  
In the back of his mind, somewhere in a dusted corner that hadn't been visited in a while, the penetrating look the cat gave him reminded him of something from a long time ago.  
  
In the brief fraction of a moment that feeling brushed past him, the cat had seated itself right in front of him, still gazing up at him. And that feline grin was still on its slender pointed face.  
  
That grin…so innocent and sweet, yet wickedly evil at the same time. Heero lowered the gun slightly but whipped it up again when the cat took one step closer. It was ridiculous, really, to be so cautious of a cat. He gave it his best, patented death glare, which was still fully intact and colder than it had ever been.  
  
The cat, it just kept grinning no matter how cruel Heero attempted to be. It seemed that the longer he glared at it, the more anger he added to his glare, the more the cat wanted to stay. It was…annoying. And familiar.  
  
"What do you want." The standard statement question that you would only hear from him. He was talking to a cat, but he didn't care. Even a cat can be suspicious, not matter how cute they appear to be.  
  
Suddenly, in a gigantic leap which only felines can add perfection to, it sprung onto his lap. When it landed on his lap, Heero dropped his gun and gripped the armrests of his chair, backing away from the window as if he expected the cat to follow with it. For a few seconds he remained completely frozen in place, just staring down at the friendly face that was giving him a reflected expression that completely contrasted.  
  
/=/ It's a cat, Yuy. A stupid, useless, good for nothing cat. What are you so afraid of./=/ He tried to think this way, but instead other thoughts started to swim and play in his mind. Ones that he had no control over. The links and ties he saw in this cat. It was a horrible feeling to Heero. First the lack of control over what he was thinking, and then the actual material that his mind was turning over.  
  
The things he was remembering.  
  
Through a small black cat with a sly grin and purple tinged eyes.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
For what remained of the time to waste before Quatre made his arrival, Heero found himself talking to the cat sitting so timidly on his lap. It was not the friendly blabber a young girl would issue towards a creature like that, rather a series of irritated questions, trying to mock the cat into disliking him.  
  
"Get off my lap. Why do you like me? I'm not to be liked. I'm the perfect soldier. Soldiers are meant for battle, not sitting with some fleabag in a wheelchair." He snapped at it, but not with as much ferocity in his voice as he had intended. Gradually, he gave a miniscule proportion of his misery and defeat away to the cat, telling it through his insults of the shame he felt because of his state. Paralyzed. Ruined. What is a soldier without a worth to fight?  
  
The cat just sat there, purring in a deep throaty tone. It was frustrating in a manner of speaking. But Heero did feel much better after having made his confessions of guilt and anger to the little cat. Even if they were just a ghost of what was really buried beneath layers of ignorance and determination to remain the Perfect Soldier he once was. He had never responded to personal emotions in his life, and he clearly refused to start now. It was as though he was ashamed, to be human.  
  
Quatre would be arriving any minute now. He could feel it without having to glance at the clock. Trying to act as casual as possible, he wheeled over to the window and raised his hand to close it. But the cat jumped in his way, refusing to let him cut off the supply of fresh air.  
  
"Hn. Stupid cat." Heero glared at the feline, who looked back at him questioningly. Something dawned on Heero as he watched the purple depths. He propped his chin up on his elbows and joined the cat, watching out the window for any sign of Quatre. Slowly he reached out with his pale hand and stroked the cat's head, perhaps not as tenderly as one would expect a person to pet a cat, but it didn't matter to either of them.  
  
"Shinigami." Heero said firmly, placing the title on the cat with a curt nod.  
  
Shinigami purred deeply and gave a nod of his own in agreement. And they both went back to waiting for Quatre to appear into their view from the window.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
Authors note: Heeheehee ^^ I figured he needed some time before meeting up with Quatre – We all know he isn't as strong as he seems to be when it comes to situations with no references to war. Someone who can't talk back in return, and just listens patiently. Like a cat ^_^ Especially one named Shinigami. R&R ^.^ Hope you like it so far. 


	4. Chapter 4 - It took him four years to re...

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
It wasn't long before Heero and his new companion spotted what looked like a shiny black car, simple in design but impressive in all other aspects, turn the corner to their right with outmost precaution so as not to scratch the perfect paint. Or maybe, if it was Quatre driving it as Heero guessed it would be, it was to allow any possible pedestrian in the area the most safety he could offer. Heero leaned further out the window, hoping his arms could support his body, the lower half of which was pulling him down. Now and then he had to grab the windowsill to pull himself up again. He was anxious again. Excited, even. He noticed that the rhythm of his heart had increased in speed at the first sight of the unfamiliar car. He wanted to will it to slow down, and tried to ignore the feel of adrenaline, which he knew well from the war, slithering through his veins.  
  
Without thinking quite clearly, he wheeled himself over to the front door, bending his fingers back and forth causing them to crack at times, and shifting continuously in his seat. The leather squeaked and strained under his weight. He watched the door without blinking, mentally preparing himself for when he knew he would hear a voice, the sharp ring of the door bell, a knock, or possibly the rap of knuckles on wood. Minutes passed by, and he heard nothing but the steadily increasing pace of his own breath. Shinigami has silently moved to sit beside him, not making anything remotely connected to a sound.  
  
Another minute passed by.  
  
And yet another still. He was growing impatient, and was wondering angrily why he was situated by the front door. Quatre would come, hell, he could be two days late for all Heero cared. It wouldn't even matter if he didn't come at all.  
  
"It doesn't matter at all... I'm indifferent..." he lied loudly to himself, cracking his fingers with such ferocity the little black cat meowed slightly to stop him from breaking his fingers off by accident.  
  
"Hn." Heero muttered in the cat's general direction, still keeping his eyes locked on the door handle.  
  
Then he heard the echo of steps in the cold staircase, possibly a few floors down. Quatre had always taken the stairs; he had an odd fear of elevators. It seemed confined spaces didn't agree much with him, and it wasn't surprising taking into mind what sort of surroundings he'd grown up in. Who else would take the stairs? If it hadn't been for his disability, his pride, and still scarcely emotion-touched heart, Heero would have bolted down the stairs to meet his old friend. Though the word 'bolted' is a slight overstatement. Possibly he would have walked to the foot of the stairs, probably not even that.  
  
He stopped breathing completely as the steps grew nearer, squeaking on the shined concrete with the sound sneakers make. /=/The typical sound of a play full child…/=/, snapping back and wondering where he got that phrase from. It certainly couldn't have been from personal experience. And his imagination didn't stretch over anything like that…or perhaps it did.  
  
A knock rapped the door. Impatient, eager to just fling it open. He could tell. It was an analyzing skill he'd somehow managed to acquire with everything else he'd learnt during his life. He stared at the wooden frame for a few seconds, reaching for the doorknob slowly. But as soon as he touched it, his hand shot back to him as if jolted by static electricity. He turned his back on the door and wheeled himself into the kitchen instead, sitting there for a full seven knocks, progressively growing louder.  
  
"Come in. It's open." He said in a strong voice, not showing any of the surprising giddy-ness he felt. It was easy. He always managed to suppress and kill anything he was feeling. And so far, so good.  
  
Except, it took a struggle to hear the door open with a slight creak, and Quatres shoes squeaking on the cold floor. Shinigami sat on the table opposite the stoic pilot, trying to persuade him with his violet eyes to act out what he felt he wanted to do, even if it was just hinted to Heero himself. He remained dead silent, staring at the activated computer screen, seeing nothing that was there.  
  
"Heero…?" the voice was music to his ears, the familiarity of the tone, the pitch, everything – it was so kind and gentle, a joy to hear. He didn't even allow himself to think it, with practice, he'd become even better at being emotion-less than during the wars. His reply was unenthusiastically said as he turned in his wheel chair. He owed his friend that. To at least turn to acknowledge him. He wasn't that inhumane.  
  
"Quatre. Long time." He couldn't help it. A small smile caressed his lips. It lit up his face with the glimmer of joy and happiness that no one, not even Quatre, would expect from the one they were used to being completely oblivious to feeling. Quatre rounded the corner to the kitchen, and stopped in the doorframe. He hadn't changed.  
  
His shirt was a light salmon pink, tucked partially into his fairly tight- fitting black trousers. The absence of his vest, and the casual look of his T-Shirt made him appear relaxed, at ease. His hair was slightly messier than normal in its platinum blonde shine, and his eyes glazed over slightly when he set his eyes on Heero. His lips curved into a well-known smile, so very taken for granted in its power to make anyone feel welcome and comforted. At least by Heero. He had to fight to keep his smile vague.  
  
They simply remained there for a few seconds, smiling at each other. Each was bathed in the rush of times gone by that swept over them. It was a feeling you couldn't avoid. Not even Heero. It'd been four years. FOUR years since he last saw his friend. Four years since he'd last been offered the famous green tea Quatre made. Four years since he'd last felt a tranquil hand on his shoulder if he was ever discouraged, four years since he'd last met eyes with one of the four people he fought side by side with.  
  
"Four years, huh." Quatre said, off in La-la land to the most part.  
  
"Four years indeed." Heero replied shortly, giving away warmth with his voice for once.  
  
"Four years…" Quatre shook his head and looked at his shoes, still smiling. Not being able to handle the miniscule distance between him and his friend, he launched at Heero like an overjoyed puppy when it receives its treat for its moment of perfected training. He embraced Heero in a bear hug, wrapping his arms around his friends and burying his face in Heeros neck like a child would to his relatives. Heero, slightly shocked by the first hug attack he'd received in a long time, took a few blinks, an 'Ehhh..', and the feeling of Quatres moist eyelashes against his skin to pull himself back to reality. Slowly the smile crept back to his face again. A genuine smile. Not the business smirk or the courteous grin he used to convince people he was happy. He wrapped his right arm shakily around Quatres neck and returned the embrace to the happy SandRock pilot. Quatre was still smiling, holding back tears of pure joy. It took Quatre long to get over four years of absence, it seemed as if he'd never let go of his companion again.  
  
And Heero? It'd taken a full four years.  
  
But he was happy again.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
A/N: What can I say, I'm suffering from slight writers block..*passes out* 


	5. Chapter 5 - Remember the note he left yo...

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Heero had to pry a reluctant Quatre from him, leaving the boy to fumble with apologies, which Heero swiftly dismissed with a wave of his hand. He too, didn't want to let his friend go, but acted indifferent to it. It was better than pushing him off; it'd have devastated him. Quatre was the kind of person who never took friendship for granted, or saw it as an everyday thing. Heero felt envy stab at him for Quatre, one of the rare few people who didn't hide from his emotions. But this too, he suppressed by harshly telling himself he was being stupid, that Wufei would classify him as a weakling if he could read his thoughts.  
  
"You can't believe how HAPPY I am to see you!" Quatre's smile didn't fade, and Heero's passive look hadn't either.  
  
"Same, Quatre." came his official reply, and Quatre involuntarily bounced around the table to relieve himself of some cooped up energy.  
  
"So much to talk about! FOUR years!" Heero was painfully reminded of the time gap in each of their lives once more, and the sight of Shinigami sitting on the table, watching him through violet tinged eyes and a solemn expression across his feline features, brought Duo to his mind. /=/Where is he now...what's he doing.../=/ circled through his head, echoing eerily, unwanted by the mind but not the heart. He hardly listened to Quatre ramble on joyously about odds and ends as he habitually busied himself with making tea. Green tea, his and the rest of the pilots favorite, since he'd first forced them to drink it.  
  
"So how's Duo?" Quatre asked, pausing momentarily to watch Heero over his shoulder. He barely noticed it, but it appeared as if Heero tensed up slightly at the name.  
  
"Heero?" the crippled pilot looked up at Quatre with the ritual blank eyes and gave a shrug. It was true, he had no clue as to where Duo was at present. But the shrug didn't suffice, and he felt guilt creep up on him from the listless way in which he seemed to regard Duo. It couldn't' be shrugged off. It wasn't how he felt.  
  
"You don't know?" Quatre sounded a bit surprised, thinking that after four years out of combat and warfare, Heero would have warmed up slightly.  
  
"No." Heero's tone was deadly cold, but Quatre decided to pursue the subject further. It angered him that Heero could be so inconsiderate and cold.  
  
"Why not? You have his address, don't you?" He said casually, dropping tea bags into the two cups of hot water he'd prepared, and went in search of some snack in the cupboards above his head. He didn't want to appear as disappointed or upset, and decided to take on Heero's act of indifference.  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Oh. Well I'm sure you can find him with a bit of effort." Quatre commented, his voice trailing acid as it left him. Heero raised an eyebrow at 04's turned back.  
  
"I don't' need to find him." came his reply, which shocked even him. /=/I don't NEED to? What the fuck was that?/=/ his human conscience attacked him with /=/You'd rather be near him than to have your legs back and you know it!/=/ Heero wanted to tear his conscience out, and probably would have, had it been solid and removable. Quatre meanwhile, had stopped his preparation of the tea, and was facing Heero with a bitterly enraged expression on his face, which showed through due to his lack of skills to mask it up.  
  
"Heero Yuy, you know that's not true." Heero shrugged again, and painfully watched Shinigami narrow his eyes at him and slink off the table in a huff, stalking out of the room and disappearing around the corner. Quatre sighed deeply, and retrieved the ceramic cups and placed one in front of the stoic ex-pilot. It seemed as if Heero wouldn't budge to the subject of Duo. He wouldn't react even if a picture of Duo was imprinted on his retina, Quatre figured. But he couldn't' help remembering, how happy they both seemed to be, together during the war. Heero most of all, as it was the only time he would let a wide smile grace his emotionless face.  
  
~Flashback. End of a successful mission a few years ago...~  
  
"Yay! Cheers to us!" Duo bounced around the campfire Heero had allowed them to build up happily, occasionally spilling the alcohol out of his glass and into the flames, causing them to erupt in sudden anger.  
  
Trowa smiled at the clown, being the total opposite clown himself. The world's saddest clown, and a Duo Maxwell style clown. What a contrast there was. Quatre grabbed hold of Duo's boot when he came on his seventh bounce-around the fire, cautioning him quietly to sit down, which he did. Beside Heero, whose fingers were clattering across the black keys of his laptop.  
  
"Aren't you going to celebrate?" Duo asked, smiling widely and offering his glass to Heero. Heero paused momentarily to look at the alcoholic drink, and shook his head. Duo stuck his tongue out, and peered over Heeros hand at the screen. As per usual, the mission data was set out in an organized fashion, and Heero soon clicked the square 'send' button. The screen flashed blue for a moment, and the red words 'Mission Complete' flashed across it, coloring both of their faces a light blue. Heero promptly shut the computer off, and folded it back into its compact form, seemingly ignoring the friendly hug he received from Duo on finishing the statistical part of the missions work.  
  
"Good mission, ne?" Duo commented, gulping down the last of his drink swiftly.  
  
"Hn." Heero commented, folding his legs beneath him and staring into the flickering flame of the fire, making sure it didn't roar up high enough to attract attention from unwelcome guests.  
  
"Ooooooh, yeah, the 'hn' thing." Duo smirked in mock annoyance, wrapping his arm around Heeros shoulder. Heero simply remained still in his observation of the flames.  
  
"Hey, Duo, I'm gonna get some sleep now." Quatre said, yawning, a tired look in his eyes. Trowa got up before Quatre, and helped the exhausted boy onto his feet. They strolled in silence a few meters from the fire where the gear lay Trowa tucked Quatre into his sleeping bag, folding the fabric up over the boys chest in a motherly fashion, and leaving Quatre a gentle kiss on the cheek. Duo watched with warmth more comforting than that coming from the fire at the way the silent, serious Trowa and Quatre were to each other the most important things on the planet as it seemed to him.  
  
"Well then, Duo, Heero." Wufei got up too, picking up his and Duo's glasses on the way. "I'm going to get some well deserved sleep as well. Incase Monsieur Perfection forgets to remind you, put out the fire properly before you do the same." he ruffled Duo's hair as he passed, smiling, and slunk into the shadows to hunt around for his sleeping bag. Wufei really was a great person, despite his seemingly arrogant behavior in times of missions.  
  
"Yeah, I'll go to bed soon...later..I'll..I'll..." Duo trailed off as a loud yawn caught hold of him, and he pulled his arm away from Heero to stretch. Blinking from as sleep invaded his eyes, he dozed off against the rock that supported his back. He really couldn't be bothered getting up to find his sleeping bag in the cold darkness, much less spare the effort to climb into it. It wasn't long before his breaths slowed down to a comfortable and even pace where he sat next to Heero.  
  
Duo's head lolled to the side, held up by his neck in an uncomfortable fashion. From his place in the shadows, where Quatre still lay awake, he could see Heero's eyes shift instantly from the flames to Duo. Gently, the otherwise robot-influenced pilot reached behind Duo's head and tipped it to the other side, until Duo was comfortably supported against Heero's shoulder. Duo instinctively curled up against the warm body next to him, a sleepy smile twitching the corners of his mouth in gratitude.  
  
Heero didn't mind at all, and soon enough, as the fired began to die down to embers, Quatre looked up to find Heeros head resting on top of Duo's. They were both asleep, closely nestled beside each other as the slept, their breathing steady and even.  
  
Quatre smiled at the sight, and he too let sleep take him over.  
  
~ End of Flashback ~  
  
Quatre smiled again at the memory, catching Heero's eye.  
  
"What are you smiling about?" Heero asked him with a raised eyebrow. Quatre chuckled slightly.  
  
"I'm was just turning back time for the moment." he replied and got up to refill his cup of tea again, for the third time /=/Turning back time.../=/ Heero thought as he finished his tea, wiping his damp lips with the back of his hand and propping his arm up on the wooden table to rest his chin in a cupped hand. /=/ Time... /=/ he smiled faintly. He couldn't change the past, or go back to what had already happened a long time ago. He could, however, determine what was to come. The future had yet to form itself.  
  
Perhaps, he'd bring up the courage to meet Duo again. He thought of the messily scribbled note with the pilots email address on it, left on his hospital bedside table while he was still recovering from the shock of almost dying. It was upstairs, in the file cabinet. Way back in the third drawer. He knew where it was. He'd always known he'd wanted to pull it out and contact Duo again. He'd been on the verge of doing so many times. But he could never quite bring himself to do it. But now, it seemed different. Not so…so uncomfortable.  
  
/=/ Maybe, Duo...Maybe.../=/  
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
A/N: Writers block is officially cured ^_^ Yay! I hate it...I just had to finish "Duo's Nesquik" and "Boredomius Extremius and the Cures" (Humorous fics) to get rid of it..^_^ Good thing too. Hope you liked the chaaapter ^.~ 


	6. Chapter 6 - The emotions come creeping b...

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
'Tea-time' as it were, passed on in silence. Quatre seemed a bit nervous, he'd downed a full eight cups of tea. Past his usual recommendation of six. Heero was starting to wonder if anything was wrong with the blonde Arabian, but dared not question it. It might appear a flaw, asking others how they feel. He would get involved in emotions when he already had plenty of his own to suppress, and if he was able to, destroy. Though this was rarely the case.  
  
Grasping for a topic, opening his mouth to speak several times but faltering, Quatre looked slightly depressed where he was sitting. From his expression, he was obviously thinking deeply about something.  
  
"What are you thinking about." slipped from Heero's mouth without him even noticing it did. He bit back his tongue, regretting having lost control even though it was only for the time when he said the sentence. Quatre, startled, looked up from the remains of his tea.  
  
"Oh…nothing much, Heero. How's the tea?"  
  
It seemed as if Quatre didn't want to talk about it, and it was just as well to Heero. He was tripping, and had been ever since Quatre had arrived. It was too hard, even for him, to remain stoic and serious in the presence of someone he had shared his past with. He was starting to wonder how, if ever, he would react to seeing Duo again.  
  
/=/Duo…/=/ his mind drifted slightly, but he pulled himself back to reality harshly but tearing at the soft flesh on the underside of his arm. He drew blood. Thin red-tainted marks covered both of his arms, resulted from the short time he'd been seated at the table with Quatre. It was amazing how thoughts that he could have taken into consideration during the four year interval now attacked him all at once. He watched the sore skin slowly settle down after the attacks, and turned his attention back to his tea. And as if it was nothing of importance, Quatre suddenly blurted out a question.  
  
"You haven't…seen Trowa for the past years, have you?" He stirred his tea feverishly with his spoon, trying his best to act as if the query wasn't odd at all.  
  
But it was. He didn't have close contact with Trowa? Most would have expected them to be living together, at LEAST, by this stage. Heero raised an eyebrow in silent questioning, and Quatre did his bidding.  
  
"After the war…well…we lost contact." Quatre stated unsurely, wondering if that would suffice. Seeing the slightly bewildered look on his friends face, he changed his words around.  
  
"Heero, I have no idea where Trowa is. It's almost as if he's hiding!" Quatre bashed his head several times against the table, sending ripples across the surface of the tea.  
  
"I've looked everywhere for him." he mumbled, and looked up at Heero with large distant eyes.  
  
"I haven't seen him for three years…it's driving me insane…" He returned his face to stare at the floor again, thinking in guilt and sorrow about the possibilities which lay behind Trowas sudden 'disappearance.'  
  
"You left with him." The Japanese pilot said, referring to when both Trowa and Quatre had come to the hospital ward to bid Heero goodbye as he lay stiff and silent on his bed. They'd said their goodbyes, he remembered. Quatre had hugged him swiftly, and Trowa had laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a silent word of farewell, in a language only the quiet pilots understood. He remembered having remained as he was. A statue. Dead, he had wished. They didn't know he was watching them as they left the room hand in hand, and turned the corner down the corridor.  
  
"Yes…Three years, Heero. Not four." Quatre stared at the cup, having lost interest in it completely.  
  
"Hai. Three indeed." was all he got in return. For some reason, Quatre felt obligated to tell the whole story. More silence from the person he was conversing with, meant there was a gap to fill somewhere. This time, it was clear that Heero wanted a form of explanation. It was easy for Quatre to discuss things like this. He loved Trowa, and he showed his despair of having 'lost' him without hesitation.  
  
/=/He's so much like Duo…they always were alike…I wonder if Duo's searching for –me-…/=/ Heero thought to himself, weighing out the probability of that idea in his mind. Convincing himself that he didn't care less wasn't working too well anymore. The old 'ignorance' plan was failing. The more he watched Quatre, the more the Arab seemed to have a part of Duo embedded in him. It was painful to watch.  
  
/=/ Or maybe he's forgotten./=/ Even thinking that hurt. The gloomy kind of pain, of anger and betrayal. The one that starts in the pit of your stomach, and works its way up your throat, pinching and thrashing to create a choked feeling. Heero quickly turned his attention back to Quatre, and the SandRock pilot was prompted to begin his explanation.  
  
"It was odd, really…one minute he was there, the next he wasn't. He got a phone call… Middle of the night… left in a hurry in the morning, saying something about Catherine… " Quatre shook his head, straining his memory.  
  
"I can't remember. I was half asleep when he took off. It didn't really register with me until I pulled myself out of bed a few hours later."  
  
"And he didn't come back." Heero finished for him.  
  
"No…He didn't come back," Quatre mumbled, and a shiver ran up his spine," I tried calling them…but the circus has never been very big. Always moving around. It'd be a miracle if I could find it. I TRIED to find it, I did!" Quatre's voice was raised, and he looked on the verge of tears. Guilt was reflected across his eyes. He was feeling horrible for not being able to find Trowa, and at the same time extremely bitter and angry for being left without a decent explanation. He and Heero had something in common then. Which rarely happened on any other occasion. They both felt hurt. Though Quatre didn't know of the similarity; Heero didn't reveal it.  
  
A slight smile appeared on Quatres lips. From some source deep in his mind, he'd regained his hope and trust in Trowa. He couldn't stay angry at the uni-banged man for long. Who could? Trowa, with his silent sincere ways. His calm and cool attitude. He wasn't the life of the party, but who says life has to be rowdy and boisterous? Trowa was…well, he was Trowa. Nothing more was needed.  
  
"Long day. The guest room is ready and made for you." Heero said, and without another word, wheeled himself over to the counter to dispose of the cups in the sink. Quatre nodded gratefully and scooped up his bag.  
  
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." He rested his hand momentarily on Heero's turned shoulder, before heading up the sloping stairs to the second floor. Shinigami walked into the kitchen, seeming to have recovered from his bout of anger at his master and leapt, purring, into his lap. He was given a quick pat, and that was all he needed. It seemed that the cat, though greeted somewhat coldly by Heero, would never stay away from him for long. He was bound to his friend, and wouldn't leave him for the world. Cats are honest. Barriers don't disturb them, as they do humans. They simply walk right through, as if it wasn't there to begin with. Satisfied, Shinigami leapt off again and trotted lazily up the stairs towards the bedroom.  
  
A few minutes later, Heero turned off the lights on the main switch by the stairs, double checking the door, and pushed himself up the ramp to his bedroom. He let his mind wander freely for a moment, as he struggled slightly to undress himself, aiming his shirt at the chair. But his lack of concentration led it to land with a soft 'flump' on the file cabinet, slipping down and clinging to the handle of a drawer further down.  
  
/=/Stop reminding me. I don't want to be reminded./=/ Heero glared at the shirt as if it'd been sent from hell. But once again his thoughts were sidetracked onto Duo. He wanted to be indifferent. He didn't want to care. He didn't WANT to live like this.  
  
Shinigami watched him from the dresser, reading his thoughts from his expression. Gracefully he bounded over to the file cabinet, and pawed at the cold metal handle. It was as if he was answering Heero's question. He didn't want to live like this.  
  
And all he had to do, was change it.  
  
"You too, huh." Heero sneered angrily at the cat who whined in attempt to make the cabinet magically open, effortlessly pushing himself off the wheel chair and squirming backwards across the bed, and pulled the covers up to his chest. He stared at the roof, trying to think of something else to occupy his mind.  
  
But he still felt hurt. What if Duo had forgotten him? What if…what if he was just a distant memory of the past, or not even that?  
  
/=/Goddamnit! You don't like Duo, remember!?/=/  
  
He was lying. Again. Apart from his unwillingness to cooperate with his heart, his determination to be a human robot, and refusal to let go of the freezing cold attitude – from pride and dignity - there was nothing to keep him from Duo. It was only himself.  
  
Himself  
  
A few old paper files.  
  
And a thin metal sheet.  
  
He just had to accept that he wanted it.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
A/N: Ah…it's about 11:30 pm now…and I have a math test tomorrow x.X I feel dead. Well, it's another chapter…and we're drawing nearer to Duo's appearance…which might come as a bit of a surprise…^-^ *Smiles evilly, and skips off* R&R please, and thanks to those who've reviewed so far! ^.^ 


	7. Chapter 7 - Chinese take-out.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Fitful sleep plagued his night, even through the crack of dawn. Up to the time Shinigami started clawing at his arm to wake him up, nothing in the real world affected him much. The dreams were back again. Not very changed, but focusing more on Duo than the actual mission. He didn't feel himself being torn to pieces by shards of broken metal, or crushed under the immense weight of a Gundam. Instead the storm raged outside the hospital window, and the small note on the bedside table shone out with brilliant clarity every time lightning found its way to the ground. Outlined with every flash was Duo, standing by the window, with his braid flailing behind him as if there was wind in the room when it was as still as death. When he left, the storm grew fiercer, mocking the limp form of Heero bound to the bed by paralysis.  
  
He cursed himself for saying nothing. It would have done him good to at least take farewell, and leave it behind him as a fragment of history. Guilt worked its way up to despair and anger, and his feelings took so many diverged forms and shapes that it was surprising he didn't go into a coma. Just as the hospital window enlarged to project the transparent vision of a blank violet-tinged eye, a sharp pain extending from his hand jolted Heero back to his bedroom.  
  
The same four walls surrounded him with a clear view of every corner in the dim morning light. Sunrises are supposed to be magnificent. Rays of light are meant to bounce off every surface and add a golden texture to any object. But to Heero, they'd always been a painful reminder that he was still alive to the extent of being an android suited only for the purpose of warfare. An android to be shut down and forgotten. /=/In that case, someone has forgotten to shut the power down./=/ Heero thought to himself as the gray interior of the chamber faded to an eerie white.  
  
Shinigami surveyed him from the floor for a few seconds, making sure his master was ok enough to get out of bed. He then bounded to wake Quatre, who would for one be easier to wake up, and secondly would probably get up straight away to fish some cat food out of the fridge.  
  
Heero could hear the 'royal' greeting the feline received from Quatre. Sure enough, there was a scramble of tin cans and plates in the kitchen, signifying the feeding of Shinigami. A very important ceremony so far in the Yuy household that had come to be routine already.  
  
Except for today. Not only did he feel depressed and more in the mood for wallowing in self-pity, but Heero was growing thinner and weaker for every day that went by. He wondered if Quatre would notice, and if so what kind of lecture he'd get.  
  
So Heero remained in bed for the large part of the day, staring at the ceiling. He was in a bad mood, or at least, what normal people would call a bad mood. It was just his normal day-to-day attitude a slight bit more uncovered. He'd kept his face for four years, so he felt he deserved to act bitchy for once in his life.  
  
Alright, so he was depressed to put it simply. And he knew very well what cure to use. After a few hours, he'd even begun losing patience and pride in himself, moments normally passed as impossible.  
  
/=/Perfect Soldier my ass./=/ he turned over an lay on his side, fixing the presently switched-on laptop in a cold death glare, trying to mentally force it to die in an explosion of circuits or something.  
  
"Heero?"  
  
He snapped out of his trance and glanced over his shoulder in a meek effort to look at Quatre. Instead of greeting him with a 'good morning', or by now it would be afternoon', he simply spat out a cold "What?"  
  
"You didn't come down for breakfast…or lunch, for that matter. I figured you might be hungry. D'you want to go outside and get something to eat?"  
  
Admittedly, he was starving and had failed to notice it. Outside was somewhere he hadn't visited for a while, so why not?  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Come on, you need to get a bit of fresh air. Frankly, you've looked more and more sick ever since I got here." He could hear the concern adorn Quatre's voice as the young man pondered if he'd subconsciously messed up Heero's weekly planner and set him off track.  
  
Heero might be organized and efficient to a point where it starts to become sad. But he's not THAT sad.  
  
"Please? As a favor?" That word sent icy sparks up his spine. He hated owing favors, pinned down by the need to pay back. Usually, it was nothing. He couldn't care less. You borrow something from OZ, who gives a fuck if you return it or not. Slaughter a few mobile suits; take a few peoples lives, its really no big deal. You didn't know them to begin with.  
  
But to Quatre? Different story. The whole lot of them, it wasn't the same. So he lurched himself into a sitting position, distinctly angered over how weak his arms felt under him, as if they would buckle.  
  
"Fine." He snapped, and Quatre smiled happily, trotting down the stairs to give attention to Shinigami before they left.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Half an hour later, Heero was dressed and in his wheelchair, making his way to the front door as well as trying not to run over Shinigami, who was circling the chair like a scavenger. Now and then, he'd leap up and bat at Heero's shirt playfully, shrinking back when he was ignored.  
  
"Chinese food, I figured." Quatre said as he unlocked the many barriers of the door, frowning at the time it took to get them all unlatched. It took him a couple of minutes of remembering codes and fishing up keys to get the door to open. Heero, indifferent, wheeled himself out the door to the elevator. Quatre stopped dead at the elevator door, watching it slowly start sliding shut. Heero put out his arm and managed to keep the door open with a slight bit of effort – seeing as how weak he'd become.  
  
"Um…I…I don't like elevators." Quatre simply would not move an inch further. He'd much rather take the long stairs than set foot in that tiny enclosed metal box. But at the same time, he was scared shitless of making Heero feel inferior, with his inability.  
  
Heero simply remained where he was, giving Quatre a long cold look before letting go of the door that he still held open, and let it slide closed.  
  
Quatre had never felt so crappy in his life, as he walked swiftly on his functioning legs down the long stairs. For every step he took, the thought of how boring and tiring it was to climb stairs. He wondered what Heero would give to be in his place.  
  
  
  
*  
  
"Right, 's up to you to read it. I can't." Quatre frowned up at the large plastic boards with black Chinese letters etched into them. Heero looked up and said in a cold voice.  
  
"I'm Japanese."  
  
"I know that, but I figured you might know Chinese." Quatre shrugged, watching Heero through the corner of his eye to watch for any change in his facial appearance. Nothing. Heero was as blank as a slab of granite.  
  
"No, no , no, fool!" A clear, yet deep voice hissed at the poor clerk at the counter. "This goddamn place doesn't do my cultural food justice." It snorted, and the owner spun around on his leather jodhpur-resembling footwear and crossed his arms over his chest while the clerk rushed back into the warmly lit Chinese take-out house to perfect the orders.  
  
Quatre stared with wide eyes, and tapped Heero's shoulder.  
  
"Hn?"  
  
"Look." Quatre kept his eyes locked on the man at the other counter. Heero did much the same, though slightly less obvious. Above the mans jodhpurs was a pair of faded jeans, slightly overlapped by a comfortably fitting black overcoat. His well-tended posture gave him a lean and elegant look. The silky thin black hair was tightly bound at the back of his head. His hair had grown a lot, and now reached in a dark sliver down to his elbows. Other than that? Wufei hadn't changed.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
A/N: Nooooo more writes block for meeee ^^ All gone. Thank you to all the faithful reviewers ^_^ I'm glad you's likes it. I'm having too much fun writing this..muaha. It's torture having to wait aaaaages for Duo to show up, huh? Their encounter is going to come about a bit strangely…*@_@ gets evil look in eyes and skips off* 


	8. Chapter 8 - The last straw.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Both Heero and Quatre stared in a dumbfounded manner for quite a while. All of a sudden, out of the blue, was Wufei. He was standing a mere four meters away at a Chinese take-out parlor. He received his food, taking it roughly from the frightened clerks hand, and turned around to lean against the counter, consuming his meal. He was unaware that two other people, who had stalled the line waiting for their food by about five people, were very closely watching him. It was Quatre who first opened his mouth to speak, as it often was.  
  
"Fei?" he said in a shaky voice, not taking his eyes of the Chinese man. Wufei stopped mid-chew, a few noodles still suspended from his mouth. Some soy sauce dropped onto his crisp white shirt as he slowly turned his head, raising his dark eyes towards Quatre and Heero. By this time, the noodles dropped out of his mouth, and he assumed the same expression as the two spectators. His meal was completely forgotten.  
  
"…Winner?" His eyes moved lower, across Heero's cold face. "Yuy?" He dropped his food into the trashcan beside him robotically. It wasn't very tasty anyway.  
  
Heero nodded in the business type manner he'd practiced for a long time. He noticed his fingernails were dug into the armrests of his chair again, and simply wouldn't relax. If anything, he appeared to be horrified with facing Wufei. Possibly because of how abruptly it came about. Apart from Duo, Wufei was the person Heero least wanted to appear like this in front of. He'd seen Wufei's eyes traveling down to his disabled legs and snap back to his face again afterwards. It hurt.  
  
On the other hand, Quatres stunned face lit up slowly, and another heartwarming smile spread across his face. He'd gotten over the first part of shock, and was now bubbling with laughter and tears, which one to respond to he didn't know. In the same way he'd attacked Heero with hugs, he did to Wufei.  
  
"Winner! Off! Down!" Wufei threw his hands up in the air as Quatre glomped him around the middle a slight bit too tightly. Wufei sweatdropped, and gave up, realizing there was no way to pry the pilot off him. So he petted Quatres blonde head as if he was a dog.  
  
"It's nice to see you too, Winner." Wufei smiled and rolled his eyes, and let Quatre continue his hug assault. He folded his arms and looked down at Heero, who could possibly have been green with hidden envy at him, for being able…to stand up.  
  
"Hello, Yuy. Been a while." The Chinese said, and took a deep breath of relief as Quatre let him go. By now they'd attracted a whole lot of attention from the crowd, who was staring just as stupidly at them all. Heero could hear a faint whisper of 'Gundam Pilot' sweeping over the collection of people, and Quatre had obviously heard it too, he looked uncomfortable. Wufei took a swift look around, and started walking away from the parlor, motioning for the other two to follow. The eyes of strangers watched his retreating back, and the level of babble soon rose as Heero and Quatre followed after the Chinese. To speed him up, Quatre swiftly went up behind Heero and wheeled the chair out onto the walkway.  
  
That was just the last straw for Heero. He grabbed the wheels and wrenched himself around harshly, forcing Quatre to let go. His arms ached from the effort he had to put into it. He fixed Quatre in a death-glare colder than any he'd distributed at any other time, and hissed through his teeth.  
  
"I'll do it, myself."  
  
With that, he turned around again and heaved the chair into motion, after Wufei, who had slowed to a halt and was waiting for them, hands in his pocket. Quatre stood with his arms limp at his side for a few seconds. He didn't understand what he'd done wrong. Despite how painfully obvious it was.  
  
The voices coming from their meeting-place faded from their ears as the three pilots caught up with each other. Heero in the middle, purposefully pushing himself forward, with Quatre and Wufei at his sides. They walked in an uncomfortable silence. Quatre in particular, was feeling guilty. Wufei did well in saying nothing; he could see anger rippling across Heero's face. For the second time, it was Quatre who attempted to strike up conversation.  
  
"Do you live here, Wu-man?" he asked quietly.  
  
"I do, yes. I'm surprised I haven't seen you until now." He commented. Quatre shook his head slightly.  
  
"I don' t live here. I came to visit Heero." He indicated with his head towards Heero, trying to make him participate in the small talk.  
  
"You haven't made an effort to visit, Yuy?" Wufei asked, arching an eyebrow. He was very similar to Heero, yes. But he didn't have the same issues Heero. He could shamelessly seek his friends out if he wanted to. The thing was, he'd rather have them come to him. There was nothing wrong with that. It had no connection to his pride. He was just…Wufei.  
  
"Hn" Heero put in helpfully, again suppressing the guilt that wrenched at his stomach. For being the one who appeared the least human, he was possibly the most. Because he had been denied being able to act human to begin with. Wufei snorted.  
  
"Aa. Nothing has changed then." Quatre diverted his eyes to keep from noticing the pain that washed over Heero. He really didn't look well at all. Physically or mentally. Quatre couldn't' help himself. He let it slip out.  
  
"Heero, you're not looking very well."  
  
Heero just kept going as he if hadn't heard anything.  
  
"You're pale, and sickly…you should go see a doctor." Quatre finished, edging away from his friend incase he erupted into a rage. Heero considered it for a while. He had been feeling even more miserable and weak than ever before, he knew that. /=/No…I'm not…'well'…/=/ he admitted.  
  
Yet another minute of silence followed Quatres comments. Wufei and Quatre both waited in the answer, worried what it'd be.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
One could almost feel the tension dropping between the three. Quatre looked surprised, and smiled faintly, but let the subject drop. He'd been about to pull up the subjects of Gundams, but thought better of it.  
  
"Wufei, you haven't seen Trowa around since…let's say…three years back?" his voice sounded guilty and pained. Wufei reacted just as Heero had, except he voiced his thoughts a bit more.  
  
"Pardon? Winner!? You don't know where Trowa is?" Wufei sounded very surprised. He'd never really approved much of the other pilots being 'gay', but he'd gotten used to it. He was, after all, not homophobic. And the mere though of Quatre losing contact with Trowa was just to queer. Quatre flushed red and looked down at his shoes in shame.  
  
He was openly ashamed. And he wasn't weak for it. Quatre was the strong one, if anyone was strong. He dared to show what he felt. He missed Trowa, and for what he'd told Heero, had done everything in his power to find him to no avail. For Heero, it would be so easy. It'd take a few clicks of the mouse and the tapping of some keys, and he'd be able to see Duo, any day he wanted. In the time Heero had finished with these guilty thoughts, Quatre had repeated the story of Trowas disappearance to Wufei.  
  
"Hm. It's odd. I haven't seen him since the war." Wufei stated, staring up at the darkening sky. A few odd stars were shining through already, and the moon was weakly outlined. Quatre nodded solemnly.  
  
"I'll find him though." He smiled, "I just have to try a bit harder."  
  
That was just too much for Heero. Without as much as a word to the other pilots, he went off at an incredible speed for one bound to a wheelchair, down the walkway and was soon out of view. Quatre looked puzzled. He had no idea what was going on behind Heero's cold face. He didn't know how guilty and pathetically weak his friend felt. How angry he was. For his condition of paralysis, making him an excuse for a soldier in his opinion. For his friends, never having contacted them or even given a thought to dropping them a line now and then. For Duo, for hiding from him.  
  
"What's with him?" Quatre asked, watching Heero's retreating back fade into shadows. He got up and was about to run after him, but Wufei grabbed his shoulder.  
  
"From what I know of Yuy, I'm guessing he needs to be left alone"  
  
Quatre paused, and nodded slightly. They both watched Heero struggle to wheel himself home again.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Well at home, Heero did everything with brisk ferocity. He dented the door when he threw it open, and left rough marks in the paper of the envelopes he picked up from the floor. Had Shinigami not been quick and agile, a rampaging wheelchair'd have squashed him.  
  
He refused to let his feelings shine through. Why did he have to be so goddamn abnormal? His mind was meant to be oblivious to feelings. It was a fault, an error, to be so weak. Mentally, as well as physically. He threw the door shut again, and screeched up the ramp to his room, not bothering to undress or get ready, and pulled himself onto the bed where he collapsed, panting. He was tired. Exhausted, more like it.  
  
His purpose had been used up completely. The war was over, and even if it wasn't, what could he do? He'd deserted his friends completely in hurt pride, forcing himself to forget them. He had no reason to live.  
  
"Not only am I a cripple, beyond repair…" he said in a dead quiet voice to himself, "but I am the waste product of a war."  
  
"I am no longer needed."  
  
This was Heero. Someone with a life so harsh it'd taken all compassion out of him. But even science can't destroy the soul. He still had emotion, guilt especially. And it was wrong. It was an error in his perfection. He was meant to be the Perfect Soldier; it was that or nothing. He was created a machine of war. An android. And if he couldn't stay that way…  
  
/=/ I'd rather die, than live a purpose-less life as a weakling/=/  
  
And he snatched a razor off his nightstand, holding it to a pulsating vein in his wrist. 


	9. Chapter 9 - Dreaming in death.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
A/N: I would just like to say Thaaaaank Yooooou! to everyone who has read this fic (So far) ^_^ Glad I'm writing something which is of value to you ^.^ Because I'm enjoying this fic a lot. Here's the next chaaaapter, which is…well, a bit of a dream sequence (or death sequence, whichever you want to see it as)…Is he dead or not? Hm…good question… outcome is yet undecided. *Debates how to start next chapter*  
  
  
  
A faint sound, like the flow of liquid, awakened him. It was almost too soft to be considered a sound, and so smooth. He could almost feel it. Blood.  
  
/=/ I'm dead./=/ was the first thing that came to mind. But he'd expected the glorious gold gates of heaven, or perhaps the iron bars of hell, to tower up before him in superiority. When he opened his eyes, all that he could see before him was space. He blinked several times to adjust his eyes to the new viewpoint.  
  
The sky was no longer limited by the solid blue-gray color it took normally. It was a mix of glace colors, pinks, yellows, greens, blues, a spectrum of faded blends. Light was coming from everywhere, but at the same time, it had no source. He was lying on his back, on something solid, watching the stillness above him.  
  
Slowly, his fingers crept over the hard surface beneath him. It was cold, and smooth, like glass. Turning his head at an angle, he could see the floor was made up of many glass panes, all reflecting the atmosphere above. There was no end, nor a beginning. It was as if he was trapped on a glass plain between two explosions of color.  
  
And it was so still. So quiet. Not even his breathing disturbed the silence. Even the usual ringing that occupies the ears wasn't there.  
  
Bit by bit, he became aware of another change. His legs. They weren't immobile any more.  
  
/=/ I have to be dead now then… No force on earth would have been able to get my legs back. /=/  
  
He basked in the feeling of simply being able to know that his legs were functioning. That if he tried to, he'd be able to stand up. After a few endless minutes, what seemed longer than any time span on earth, he became aware of being somewhere…strange. He pushed himself up with ease. Looking down, he saw his well-toned muscular arms were there, healthy and strong. His skin didn't look ghostly and white, but was a light tan. It was the old days replayed.  
  
The chain of glass panes stretched beyond his vision, yet there was no horizon. It all seemed to go on and on, without any ending. Still nothing had moved. The air didn't even churn when he moved his hand through it.  
  
He was completely, and utterly, alone. And he didn't like it. He would admit, that it was too eerie. Too silent. Even Relena would be a welcome disturbance.  
  
As if responding to his thoughts, the colors faded to a coal black. The panes of glass reflected it back, but their edges shone with luster. Still nothing moved, but Heero's eyes grew wider. Something had to have caused that. It couldn't have done so on it's own yet what would have?  
  
"Heero."  
  
/=/ What? Huh? /=/ He leapt to his feet and spun around. There was Quatre, not more than five meters from him. Dressed in his normal clothes, but these were tinged black and dull. And he was unnaturally pale. His eyes weren't joyful, either. Gray and dead, as if he wasn't there.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
"Why didn't you visit?" came the bleak voice once again. Only the mouth moved. Nothing else changed with the words. Heero's eyes grew dark. Even in this place they came to torment him? Couldn't he for once be allowed existence without interference from emotion?  
  
"You…I don't need you." He whispered in a deadly soft voice.  
  
"Maybe you don't. Though I doubt that is true. But we need you."  
  
The spiritual version of Quatre went silent once again. He looked straight through Heero, as if watching something behind him but a glance revealed nothing there.  
  
"Leave me alone!" Heero charged at the figure, and swiped at it with his healthy arm. But the moment before impact, the target was gone. Quatre was no longer there.  
  
"Heero." A deeper voice echoed from behind him. Trowas voice. Heero spun around to see the former green eyes of the Heavyarms pilot had died down to gray, just as Quatres had. This time, he said nothing. Trowa returned the silence, but watched him with a look that showed hurt. Reflected from Heero himself. Heero turned away for a brief second, and looked back to find this specter too, gone.  
  
"Why?" The cold Chinese accented vocal sounded to his right. Wufei had his arms at his sides in a listless manner.  
  
"Why WHAT Wufei?" Heero gave him a sickeningly furious stare. Wufei didn't budge.  
  
"Why?" he asked again. This time, it echoed off an invisible barrier.  
  
Why…why…why…  
  
"I said LEAVE ME!" Heero shouted, clenching his fist. As soon as his eyes blinked, Wufei was gone too. Why what? Why did he push them away? Why did he hide behind a mask? Why did he pretend he had, and couldn't respond to, emotions? Why? The answer was too complex.  
  
But… it wasn't.  
  
It was so simple.  
  
"Heero." the voice was so soft. It floated to Heero's ears and wrapped his senses in a cool blanket. He let his viewpoint wander to his left. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a silhouetted figure, hidden by an unseen shadow. A long braid swayed behind him, and a wind without a source tugged at his hair and clothes.  
  
"Duo…" the words escaped him before he could stop them.  
  
"Yeah. It's me." he sounded more human than the other pilots had. Almost as if it really WAS him. Duo took a few short slow steps towards Heero, pausing with every footfall. Heero was shivering as if it was twenty degrees below zero. And his eyes felt strangely sore and wet. Duo halted only a few centimeters from him, facing Heero's back. Heero didn't move. Or couldn't.  
  
A pale hand, with long spindly fingers looking fragile as porcelain reached towards Heero's cheek. It was as slender and white as a swan, floating in the air. A thin finger made contact with Heero's check, sending violent shivers down his spine. Unlike anything else in this place, he could feel it. Cold.  
  
For a brief second, the hand remained close to his face, and caught a salty tear that reluctantly trailed down his cheek. It merged with the hand. It took up his pain willingly. For a brief second, the desperate guilt that had occupied his mind but been pushed away instantly took him over.  
  
They'd offered everything for him. And what had he done? He'd run. He'd hidden. He'd lied. He'd rejected and ignored them like one would air. Take it for granted and deny it was of any importance. He'd been able to disregard the four pilots for four years. Any thought on them had been immediately dismissed. They sacrificed for him, taken up his invisible tears. And he'd reviled them for it.  
  
It was a shame worse than that of being bound to a wheelchair. Worse than being a Perfect Soldier without his Perfection and ability to fight.  
  
So, selfish.  
  
And now for short intervals, no more than a second or so, he could see it clear as glass. To then swiftly block it out again, and put his mask back in place, where it'd always been.  
  
"You're scared." Duo's voice hit him as icy cold, even though the tone hinted nothing of the sort. That was all? Being told he was scared? Heero would rather have Duo scream and shout at him, hate him for deserting him. But Duo withdrew, walking backwards slowly, in silence.  
  
It made Heero feel even worse. Even after his death – and the death itself, what it would have done to his friends – they cared.  
  
With a sudden roar, as if someone had pushed the 'play' button, the scene roared into action. The clouds swirled and attacked each other, and harsh winds blew over the barren landscape. Right in front of him, slightly translucent, Heero could see Deathscythe and Wing Zero. The enemy mobile suit was following undetected behind them. He saw the attack, the impact of metal to metal, as Wing Zero fell into ruins. A harsh scream trailed from the wreckage and was abruptly cut off. Flames and smoke rose from the scene with intense heat. He could only stare.  
  
Suddenly, his legs gave up. He collapsed onto the ground, and the numbing feeling replaced that of life. Energy was draining from him, fast. His skin paled, and his frame declined into the fragile figure it'd been just before the razor had impacted on his vein. These veins slit open on their own, and the draining sound of liquid filled his ears again, quicker and more rapid this time.  
  
Huge bars erupted from the ground, each wall up to 30 meters away from him. They closely spaced bars curved over like black claws and closed him in completely. Mixed in with the flow of blood that slowly increased, spilling black onto the glass, was the still the sound of crumbling metal and flames, rising into the air.  
  
Then it all went silent. The blood spilled without a sound and spread it's black substance through the crevices of the glass floor. Turning one wide blue eye to look out of his makeshift prison, Heero could see a huge transparent face outside the bars. It's violet eyes shone with what looked like tears.  
  
"You're scared…and so am I…"  
  
And it started fading rapidly.  
  
As it faded into nothing, it dawned on Heero what he'd done. Not only to himself, but also to his friends. To Duo. He'd forced himself to forget them, and in the process destroying a vital part of his own being. He wasn't the one who'd been betrayed. He was the one who'd done the betraying.  
  
Heero lowered his head and closed his tearing eyes. In the moment of suspended time, he forgot all about his training. Having compassion and love deleted from his mind, was over-ridden. He let the guilt and grief of his entire lifetime crush against him in waves of fury.  
  
And it was raw emotion, tugging and tearing at the very base of his soul. Pride and dignity was laid aside. It was no longer needed. He was alone, and would be so until the end of time and being. Now, he could cry.  
  
And he did. Two whispered words took flight between his hushed sobs.  
  
"I'm sorry…"  
  
This said he. Heero Yuy. The human.  
  
  
  
A/N: You know, I COULD be nasty and just leave it off there…but I'm not that evil ^^ See this as a first ending, if you like it to end this way…don't read the next chapter =P I'll have that one up soon though ^.^ R&R Puh-lease-ish-ness ^_^ 


	10. Chapter 10 - I may run, and I may hide. ...

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
In the opposite side of the large hospital, was the wing committed to physiotherapy. On the second floor, slightly down a narrow corridor, was a large white door. The single brass plate read in plain black lettering - "Dr. Wells". It shone and glistened every time the fluorescent streams of light hit if from the tubular bulbs lining the ceiling. It was deserted, for the time being. The only sounds were the occasional snort coming from behind the closed door.  
  
Sitting at the cluttered desk in the far end of the room, was none other than Dr. Wells himself. For the moment, his head was resting on a pile of unsigned papers surrounded by bits and pieces of receipts and forms. A dull black coffee mug, emptied, was situated dangerously close to the table edge of the table.  
  
A soft snore escaped the sleeping doctor. He shifted his slender hand slightly across the table, and the mug moved a centimeter further to the edge. Closer to it's doom. A soft cough later, and it moved a slight bit more…  
  
…and came crashing down on the cold concrete floor.  
  
"Eeeeee! Shinigami!" in a whirlwind of paper he shot up, and the chair backwards. With a loud 'thwap' his head impacted with the wall behind him, cushioned slightly by his hair.  
  
The chaos of paper started settling slowly in various areas of the room, wafted everywhere by the overhead fan. Groaning and mumbling about suing…someone, Wells shoved himself up and surveying the mess spread out before him.  
  
"Hai, of course, this has to happen to me." He muttered to himself and sloppily gathered the papers on his desk into an acceptable pile.  
  
"Why didn't I become...say…a hairdresser? I can' do that, no problem!"  
  
He bent down to retrieve what had fallen on the floor. Chestnut brown strands of hair, having come undone sometime during his sleep for their customary braid, spilled over his shoulders.  
  
"Or a bank manager…or a waiter…"  
  
He stooped down and picked stationary and forms from under his desk, cursing when he smashed his head against the wood. His hands grabbed the papers and flitted across to grab the pencils. He paused when his hand brushed against the hard smooth surface like that of a photograph. Brushing other things aside revealed the slightly yellowed surface of a crumpled photograph.  
  
/=/Odd…I don't keep old photographs…/=/ the doctor thought to himself and ran his finger along the edge of the photo, lifting it up from the floor. It was true, he usually didn't keep photographs. He supposed it was because he never attached himself too much, incase it'd be taken away from him, and photographs just added to the burden.  
  
He slipped out from under his desk and sat back up in his chair, placing the photograph upside down on his table while he hastily gathered the largest pieces of porcelain from the late coffee mug. Suddenly the computer screen clicked on, and there was a clear picture of a fellow doctor, Kay, smiling at him.  
  
"Mornin' Dr. Wells" she said politely, but the grin on her face showed otherwise. Kay had been his co-worker, rather, for quite a while. Since Duo had joined the course on physiotherapy late, she'd help him out from time to time. She wasn't a close friend, a 'buddy' more like it, and a tomboy at that. Her short dark brown hair was slightly messed up, and her green eyes shone with a glow that could compete with Trowa.  
  
"Mornin' Kay" the doctor replied, poking his tongue out. He looked a mess with his hair undone and sleep still prodding at his eyes.  
  
"Just woke up I take it?" there was some shuffling of papers, and she took up a file from a drawer. Unlike Dr. Wells, Kay was organized, despite what she might have appeared to be.  
  
"Me?" he put on an act of mock hurt, touching his hand to his chest femininely, "how dare you assume that of me!"  
  
Kay rolled her eyes and gave him a glare, subduing her co-worker immediately. He WAS a doctor after all, and there was a limit to the amount of mockery and sarcasm he could use in a day. It wasn't like the old times, when he could use it even when slashing mobile suits in two and causing the earth to rock with the explosion.  
  
"Not so much today." She said in a would-be secretary voice, adjusting imaginary glasses.  
  
"I'm relieved to hear that, dear madam." He responded in an equally snobbish manner, tenting his fingers and trying his best to look important. But it was hard to look past his untidy appearance.  
  
"You have Ms. Olsen coming in at 3pm for a checkup on her supposed arthritis…" Kay paused and took her time to shuffle through the papers, furrowing her brow,"…and then a meeting at 3:45, but I can take care of that if you want."  
  
"Nothing to do now, huh?" he prodded an ant scurrying across the desk, which made him look even more like a child. He'd many-a-time been mistaken for a rowdy child patient during his earliest months at the hospital.  
  
"Nope, 'fraid not. Take a break or something." She shrugged. A soft 'beep' was heard through the screen, and Dr. Wells looked up in time to see her obtain a small hand scribbled note from the machine.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Oooo…scary…someone's apparently tried to commit suicide and-"  
  
"Suicide? What does that have to do with me?" he earned a glare from Kay, who brandished her finger at him.  
  
"Silent, you. I'm not done yet!" her eyes skimmed over the note, trying to decipher the almost illegible writing.  
  
"Ah…here we are. Slit wrists, lost a lot of blood, yaddayaddayadda…" she continued, "Paralyzed from the legs down, here's the part that concerns you. They want you to run a check-up on him, apparently he's stayed away from a hospital for…whoa…four years!"  
  
"Eeee…long time…who sent it?" Wells asked, toying with his hair. Kay shrugged and squinted at the paper, "can't tell, too scribbly. Patients name is…er…Yey"  
  
"Yey?"  
  
"Yes, Yey…I THINK. First name…Hiro, or something. It's hard to read! I'll send it to you." She pushed a few buttons, and soon Dr. Well's own fax machine started buzzing.  
  
"Oooooookey, thaaaaaank you." Kay grinned and closed the connection, off to attend to her first patient of the day.  
  
As the fax machine worked on receiving the data, the doctor looked back at the photo on the desk.  
  
"Hai…this thing…" he turned it over.  
  
And was met by an image that widened his eyes considerably. The droning of the fax was cut off, and the faded colors were the only thing to occupy his mind.  
  
"I remember this…" he ran a finger across the picture, in a daze. It showed all five of them. Quatre, Trowa, Wufei, Heero…and himself. Quatre and Wufei were on the ground, Quatre having two fingers behind Wufeis head. Trowa was beside Heero, who centered the photo. On his left, he saw himself, with his trademark braid. His arm was thrown around Heero, who looked as grumpy as he'd always been. Grim and serious as they come. A picture taken not long before his last mission with Heero. It pained him to think back to that mission, where his life had been saved at the expense of his companion. That was ages ago, and he'd done his best to forget it. He was afraid of facing Heero, who sacrificed himself for him, and fretted that the others might be in his company. To be frank, he'd stayed away from them all. Like was his saying, he'd run, he'd hide, but he'd never lie.  
  
"That's right…I may run, and I may hide…but I never lie."  
  
The fax machine finished its work, producing a copy of the note. A note…he'd left a note. A note? Yeah, it was pathetic, but what could he do? He'd practically ruined Heero's life by being negligent during the mission. He had the spine to kill for hours on end, but not face his friends. Pffft, some friend he was.  
  
/=/ Yeah I feel guilty…I feel damn guilty…and I smile and get on with life, whoop-dee-doo. Why do I? Because I'm a cowardly little wimp…So much of a coward that I changed my name…Wells…pftz…pathetic…/=/  
  
He looked down at the photo remorsefully and turned it over. He was still running, still hiding. Life moved on…in a manner of speaking. Ok, so it didn't move on at all. It stopped, and it took a hell of an effort to hide behind jokes and grins.  
  
Sighing, the doctor plucked the paper from where it was lying, and skimmed through the details that had been written in scribbly doctor writing. He chuckled, remembering how he'd had trouble reading it when he'd first started. Now, it wasn't too hard. He eyed the details of suicide, being admitted to hospital only about an hour ago, blood transfusion, patients name…  
  
His breathing stopped, and his heart rocketed into at least double the speed it normally was. He could feel head draining from his face and leaving him in a cold sweat. His hands began shivering violently to a point where he could no longer hold the paper. His stomach pitched violently, filling him with a thick sensation of nausea. Without as much as a sound he shoved his chair aside and bolted for the bathroom.  
  
Ripping the door open, he sank down next to the porcelain toilet bowl, and held his hair out of the way with one hand. He steadied himself with the other.  
  
And retched. Retched until his stomach whined with pain and his throat burned. The feeling replacing the nausea was growing panic, and a twisted version of fear.  
  
It wasn't Hiro Yey, who was in the recovery section of the hospital.  
  
It was Yuy.  
  
Heero, Yuy.  
  
And Duo Maxwell collapsed onto the floor, shivering with his arms wrapped around his knees.  
  
  
  
A/N: I like cliffhangers…I like the very much indeed ^^ Another 2-3 chapters, and this fic will be concluded…but you can cram a LOT into 3 chapters *evil grin* 


	11. Chapter 11 - Time resumes its course aga...

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie or Heeros cat Shinigami were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Duo couldn't move from where he'd sunk down against the wall in the bathroom. He was shaking too much, from post-nausea, from cold, from having just learnt that Heero had tried committing suicide. And strangely, he felt it was all his fault. He hadn't the faintest idea why. /=/ It's not… is it?/=/ Heero hadn't seen or spoken to him in over four years. He'd probably gone on fine without Duo, but Duo still felt responsible.  
  
Still shaking, and having a hard time controlling his breathing, Duo rose to his feet. He had to keep on hand firmly against the wall for support, and pulled the door open slowly. He staggered out and collapsed onto a chair, burying his head in his hands. His hair was in wet tangles around his face, drenched in sweat.  
  
"I made him paralysed… I virtually killed him… He's a soldier, what is paralysis in a soldier…"  
  
He shuddered to think what thoughts of hatred were surging through Heero's mind at this very moment, painfully reminding himself that he was only a half a hospitals distance away.  
  
"Crippled…"  
  
A low rumble of thunder echoed his empty words. He didn't know how to put emotion into his words at the moment, and they came out blank and monotonous as his mind fought in turmoil, tossing ideas to and fro. He was so confused, lost between guilt and fear, pity and anger, so many feelings that he was torn.  
  
"And it's all, my, fault…" He repeated the same words he'd said before leaving Heero's bedside, in a hospital not much unlike this one.  
  
~Four years ago, a stormy night at the hospital~  
  
Rain crashed down on the moonlit window, adding trailing liquid pearls to the display of shadows cast onto the shiny floor. Heero's back was turned to the door, and his blank eyes were watching nature reflecting his thoughts. Uncertainty.  
  
He was aware of another presence behind him, and another blast of lightning etched a long braid against the wall he was watching. He didn't turn around. He bit his lip firmly to keep the building sobs inside. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to appear pathetic and weak before Duo.  
  
Duo watched Heero's turned back for over two hours. He didn't move for two, whole, long, hours. Now and then, his braid would flick when a gust of air reached it from the fan, but that was it. Both entities were fighting civil wars with their own minds, and neither had the courage to find out whether the two of them were enemies, or allies. When in doubt, always assume it's an enemy. Many years of war had taught them both that.  
  
It seemed as if fifteen eternities had passed before one of them did anything. As was usual, it was Duo, who took a few slow steps towards Heero's bed. The Perfect Soldier, hurt in more ways than one, remained immobile.  
  
Quietly, Duo reached his thin hand over to Heero's face. His soft fingers caressed Heero's cold cheek for a few seconds, and ripped back as if he'd been electrocuted. Heero had shivered at his touch, repelling it. It wasn't his intention, but he was buried in so many different kinds of pain and hatred, that connection with the world outside his own alternate reality startled him.  
  
Duo hastened to pull out a slightly crumpled note with his email address printed sloppily on it, erased a few times over. He'd hesitated as to whether he would leave it or not. It was cowardly to do so, but even more cowardly to leave straight away.  
  
So he left the note there, on the bedside table. It shone eerily as he backed slowly to the door, as if wanting to remind him how pathetic he was. Had it a voice, it would be criticizing him for leaving Heero unprotected, alone…and scared. Duo assumed Heero was angry as hell with him, hurt beyond any chance of repair. He'd decided to withdraw, and let Heero sort it out on his own. Because he was scared too. Of facing someone who he'd practically taken the life out of.  
  
When he reached the doorframe, he paused slightly, surveying the scene before him. Heero, the once strong soldier, now collapsed on a white hospital bed in total silence, still not giving Duo as much as a glance. As if he was dead. And the remorse enveloped him again, forcing his eyes to sting with salty tears.  
  
"I'm sorry, Heero…this is all, my, fault…" he stumbled out of the room, running through the dark halls until he could run no further, and his footfalls had faded.  
  
Heero never saw Duo after that.  
  
  
  
~End of Flashback~  
  
It would have made all the difference if Heero had heard what Duo had said, just before he left.  
  
It would have made all the difference, if he'd turned around…  
  
If he'd just turned around…  
  
He'd felt betrayed and deserted ever since Duo had fled from his room that night. And Duo, had been scared, because Heero had said nothing to him to indicate he didn't blame him for what had happened. One stupid mission, and two lives were submersed in haywire internal chaos, slowly eating the soul with monstrous greed.  
  
Gathering what courage remained in him, Duo opened the door out of his office. The corridor was still deserted, and darker now. Ghostly shadows crept over the floor, mocking his slight fear of storms. Taking long slow steps, Duo made his way through winding corridors and rooms, every one of them seeming cold and deserted, despite there being people at work in them. He was lost in his own world, as he usually was. But this world was what one would call a nightmare of sorts.  
  
It took him only ten minutes to complete a walk that had taken him four years to start. As he walked down the last corridor, his legs started objecting to carrying him. He wobbled slightly, and steadied himself against the door.  
  
"You can do this Duo…don't be so pathetic…" he recollected himself somewhat, though far from completely and inched his way towards the door at the far end of the corridor.  
  
It hit him how much of a coincidence this was. He'd left him at a hospital, when the skies were clouded black and grey. And he'd meet him again, at a hospital, and the skies were still darkened. It was as if time had stopped for four years, and resumed now that he had a chance to change what he'd done then. He smiled feebly at the thought of nature twisting and winding its way up to a moment like this, where time could be continued from where it left off.  
  
He grasped the handle weakly in his hands, and pushed it down. Soundlessly, the door opened, casting a shadow over the moon-bleached floor. Duo's eyes trailed across the floor and focused on the hospital bed in the corner. Outlined with every flash of lightning from outside, was a fairly small and pale figure, looking frail and weak. Duo's stomach pitched again as the thought of what the pause in time had done to his companion.  
  
And at that moment, time started up again. The four years in which it had been mercilessly paused ended. The gap had taken its toll on them both, but here they were again. In the same position as they'd been so long ago. And Duo had no note to use as an excuse.  
  
Heero had seen a figure enter in the drenched window and sighed quietly to himself. Another ignorant doctor, he guessed. His wrists were tightly bandaged but red liquid still seeped out through the deep slits in his veins. His dream had left him perplexed and confused, yet so much was clearer now than it had been before. Still, he was Heero. It would take a lot more than a dream to override his set determination to remain indifferent no matter what. He said in a low-key monotonous voice to the wall, intending his voice for the doctor that had just entered the room.  
  
"Wells, I presume."  
  
He waited for the typical cheerful and business-like voice of your common doctor to answer him with some form of scolding about his suicide attempt. But he heard nothing of it. And as most things associated with the God of Death are presented, the lightning took its place in the scenario. It lit up the room so brightly it might have been a clear cloud-less day, and flashed white in rage several times.  
  
Just as Duo had done previously, Heero froze. Completely. He stared at the shadow looming up against the wall opposite him. His eyes trailed down the long braid as the shadow faded, and was sharply carved out again with another impressive blaze of lightning, showing the full lean figure against the white paint. And a soft clear voice graced his ears, so quiet and frail in reality, but occupied all space and time for the moment it was sounded in his mind.  
  
"Not Wells…Maxwell…Duo Maxwell…"  
  
History halted as it waited for the heavy decision resting on Heeros shoulders. Such simple an act, so great an impact, as is often the case in time.  
  
And Heero chose this instance to undo history when he had the chance. There would be no more painful waiting. There would be no more agonizing pause. He couldn't bear to go through the same torturing years he'd barely survived through once over. Time recommenced its endless course…  
  
…when Heero turned around.  
  
  
  
A/N: ^_^ Muahahaha! Love cliffhangers, love 'em, love 'em, love 'em. @_@ I'm going to get a good nights sleep now *nods* I think I've deserved it..=D Geography coursework AND fanfiction in one night. 'tis not bad ^_^ 


	12. Chapter 12 - Lost children.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Two fogged violet eyes looked at the person in front of him. He wanted to cry, to laugh, to shout, so much in one turn. He was so torn between feelings he didn't know what to do, and simply stood there, staring. Time was back on track. And he didn't know what to do. He felt a surge of self- hatred blaze through him as he watched the cold blue eyes staring blankly at him from the bed. He looked so hurt…and weak…he looked…he looked…  
  
Scared…  
  
/=/What have I done…Destroyed and deserted…I left him to die…Bastard is me…/=/ Duo was overwhelmed by heartbreaking scene before him. One that he felt responsible for.  
  
The other entity watched with an equal feeling stirring through him. Was he going to be angry? Would he cry, laugh, what? He didn't know… He too could do nothing more than let his own eyes lock onto the ones who watched him from the door. The same eyes which had hid behind laughter and jokes, and were now revealed in their true nature. Devastated. Destroyed. He could see the flashes of pain cross those eyes, too many options of pain to count, badly hidden behind a brittle façade.  
  
/=/…and I did that…/=/ He thought blankly, judging by the hurt radiating from Duo's face, /=/ I did that to him…/=/  
  
They weren't aware of it now. But they were on two sides of the same road. Sharing the same feelings and emotions. Both felt as guilty and horrible for betraying the other. It was all so simple… there was only one problem… Indeed both fought the same battle against their own minds…  
  
…but they didn't know it. Yet.  
  
It took a lot of courage from Duo's part to not turn and flee out the door as he'd done last time. It felt safer, running. Running from war, he didn't do. Running from the enemy, he didn't do. Running from his friend…or someone who he thought of more highly than someone of friend level would ever reach, he did.  
  
Heero? Turning around was the hardest thing he'd had to do for a long time. Harder than the testing he had to endure during the first months of paralysis, harder than the endless nightmares plaguing his sleep. And here he was now, with no way out of the situation.  
  
Surprisingly, it wasn't Duo who spoke first.  
  
"Déjà vu." Heero said quietly in a fairly cold voice, which he'd been preparing since he'd seen Duo's shadow and gotten himself under some form of control. Duo smiled sadly, a glaze covering his clouded eyes.  
  
"Heh…yeah…" Duo shifted uncomfortably where he stood, doing his best to mask up his feelings with his never changing smile. But it didn't work. It just made him look sadder. He ran a hand down his braid subconsciously, trying to distract himself in any way possible.  
  
Heero remained silent, and decided to remain that way. He didn't know how to react to the jumble of emotions without turning himself into a mess of anger and rage.  
  
Another throaty rumble from outside storm formations prompted Duo to say something. He'd never dealt well with silence, and usually filled it with his incessant chattering – not that people didn't appreciate it, they just wouldn't say so. And the spattering of cold rain on the window, the growls of thunder, time impatient with him and wanting him to take a course of action, made him even more nervous.  
  
And Heeros continous stare…  
  
He couldn't tell whether it was angry, sad, betrayed, happy…he couldn't tell. The mask seemed slightly worn now, but it was still there. And as usual, he couldn't see through it.  
  
"Heero…" he managed to croak, surprised that his voice was catching in his throat every time he tried to speak. Heero didn't shift his gaze, and it made Duo further uncomfortable, as if he was expected to do something else. He had subconsciously backed up against the door and was watching the ghostly boy as if he'd been sent from somewhere deeper than hell to haunt his conscience.  
  
But he still wanted to touch him…to feel his skin beneath his fingers…  
  
"I…I'm…" His gaze trailed down Heero's thin body, bony and pale as his face was. He looked so sickly and fragile…not at all like the Heero Yuy he'd known before. It was almost disgusting, what the once proud soldier had been degraded to. And still he kept his head up.  
  
Duo felt lower than a sewage rat. He tilted his head slightly to the side and slid down to the floor, crumpling into a shivering heap there, fighting to keep himself from crying. He never took his grief filled eyes off Heero. It felt as if there was a barrier keeping him from the boy, and words didn't seem large enough to show how sorry he was.  
  
And the barrier was identical on the other side of the room.  
  
A time of painful silence passed between them both, sitting in their own secluded areas of the room, battling with their minds. Heero was staring straight up at the ceiling, watching it light up and fade with crackles of thunder following. The atmosphere inside the room was so tense and uneasy. It almost made him feel nauseous.  
  
/=/ Can't say anything…/=/ floated through Heero's mind.  
  
/=/Bastard, Maxwell…you're a bastard…/=/ Duo repeated over and over to himself in silent thought, still curled up against the door.  
  
/=/ Can't change it now…he wouldn't accept any excuses…and there aren't any…/=/  
  
/=/ Bastard, bastard, bastard…Bastard…/=/  
  
And the war front raged on like that. Two separate battles against an illusion of the mind, an assumption made on the few scattered pieces of facts that were far from the reality of the situation. Heero was slightly startled to hear a choked sob echoing off the walls. He shifted his eyes from the ceiling to Duo, who was in a miserable heap at the door. The shadows of raindrops trailing down the windowpanes were clear on his skin. A tear-stained violet eye opened to meet his own. And a thought drifted across both of them simultaneously.  
  
/=/I'm sorry…/=/  
  
And Duo chose to voice it. He didn't know what else to do. He steadied his breathing somewhat, and looked with sorrowful eyes at Heero. Heero was still watching him blankly, waiting…so it seemed.  
  
He stood up shakily, and took a few uneven steps towards the bed. Stopping every few feet to let his trembling subside, and starting again. He halted approximately a foot away from the bed and his knees gave way and he sank down onto the floor. He looked a wreck, with tears brimming his eyes, forcing themselves down his slender cheekbones in streams.  
  
Heero looked away, pained. Why was Duo crying? Why did he have to cry? Couldn't he shout? Yell? Anything, but why did he have to cry…  
  
The steady stream of tears increased when Duo saw Heero turn away from him. To him, it looked like Heero didn't want him close…as if he hated Duo.  
  
/=/And he's every right to…/=/  
  
"Heero…" his voice caught in his throat again, and he had to pause while taking hacking breaths. Heero closed his eyes tighter, not aware of the salt stinging at his own eyes.  
  
Duo bit back his sobs. The rain had subsided a little, but black clouds were still swirling outside. In a voice barely able to be heard over the falling raindrops, he whispered  
  
"I'm sorry…" He bowed his head down, clenching the bed sheets between his fingers, and let his tears fall freely onto the white material. It relieved some pain to say the words. But they were only words. And Heero rarely listened to words.  
  
But this time he did. Heeros eyes snapped open.  
  
/=/What? Sorry? I'M the one who's supposed to be sorry! I…deserted him…/=/  
  
He looked down at the creature at his bedside, who was now crying. He looked pathetic…  
  
"Duo…" Duo's sobs stopped abruptly, and his face rose at a slight angle to look at Heero fearfully.  
  
"I'm the one who's supposed to be sorry." The stoic boy said in a quiet voice, not hiding his twisted emotions very well in it.  
  
/=/Huh? I turned him into a cripple and ruined his existence, and he's apologizing!?/=/ Duo's mind swam, and his eyes widened in slight shock as he saw a single tear make it's way down Heero's cheek as the ex-soldier stared hard at the ceiling. Slowly he reached out and wiped it off with his palm, and felt the weight of Heeros head rest upon his hand. It felt so comforting, to be close to him again. After four years of excruciating waiting.  
  
A silent understanding grew between the two of them, and Duo could feel the tension built up in the room drop slowly. He stood up, hosting himself onto the bed and taking Heero into his arms, encompassing him, hugging him tightly. The perfect soldier tensed up in his arms, but started to settle, bit-by-bit.  
  
"I'm still very, very sorry…" Duo said quietly, resting his chin on Heeros head, fighting back a new wave of tears that were rapidly building. The weaker pilot buried his face in Duo's chest, silent as a mouse for a few seconds, letting Duo's graceful hand caress his back softly. It felt like he'd finally been released after years of endless torture.  
  
Relief.  
  
He didn't have to say anything. Duo could read it through his actions that Heero was just as confused as he was. The soldier hugged Duos waist like a lost child, and curled up close to him. He was shivering and shaking, taking uneven breaths of air.  
  
Heero was crying.  
  
And it didn't take long before Duo was too, letting his tears flow from his eyes. They stayed, embracing each other, for the worth of fours years. They were both so confused and scared. Men didn't cry. But that didn't matter to them now. Both masks lay forgotten in the shadows cast by the rain outside.  
  
And for a night, they were the lost children they'd always been inside.  
  
  
  
A/N: One more chapter, and I think that's it…^^ Wheeeeee…*blinks and skips off*  
  
Shinigami: She…drank too much chocolate milk *shifty eyes* ¬¬ Or too much mocha..dundunDUN!! 


	13. Chapter 13 - Accepting Help.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Heero was woken up the next morning from the feel of a cold finger tracing circles on his cheek. His eye twitched slightly out of impulse, and the finger was withdrawn. Through his closed eyelids he could see a few slivers of light penetrating through the window. A pleasant one. It wasn't grey and cold like back when he woke up cold and frightened to death in his bedroom. It actually resembled one of those lame old happy-ending stories…golden, and warm.  
  
Maybe it was because he didn't have his own mental clouds covering up the beauty of it. They'd cleared off now, leaving him with a mind to appreciate things a slight bit more. But then again, he WAS Heero. He'd never appreciate it to the full extent possible. Or maybe he would.  
  
Appreciate…there was the word. His eye twitched again and he slowly unstuck his eyelashes and blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.  
  
/=/Aa..wasn't a dream then../=/ And he was glad.  
  
Duo withdrew slightly when he opened his eyes, smiling timidly with some of his old half-crazed joy returning to his healthy face. Heero snorted quietly, force-of-habit, and shook his head at the grinning boy.  
  
"How long have you been up." It's better to start off with something completely off topic. It drops the atmosphere somewhat, so he'd learnt from discovering the uneasy feeling silence seemed to cause him.  
  
"Aa, a few hours?" Duo tried to look innocent, but it was hard to do seeing as his knees were sore from sitting beside the bed, watching Heero sleep. As was his back, and his eyes had the sting of sleep in them.  
  
"Hn. What's –few- for you?" Heero watched as Duo forced his eyes open to what could have possibly been interpreted as awake. Duo grinned and poked his tongue out while re-braiding his messed up hair that had of course undone itself again.  
  
"Eh, nine…or less, I don't check the watch!" Duo insisted, wrapping a hair tie around the end of his braid, hopping onto the foot of the bed and resting his chin in his hands with a lopsided grin etched almost permanently onto his face. They sat there in an awkward silence for a while, Heero stubbornly refused to say anything, as usual. Duo rocked from side to side, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite put it into words.  
  
"Um…"  
  
Heero raised a eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Ummmmmm…"  
  
He coughed slightly, watching the braided boy fidgeting where he sat.  
  
"Uuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…"  
  
Heero was about to open his mouth and say something, but was attacked by a flying man with a braid who hugged him around the middle like a teddy bear and blurted out a very long run-on sentence in one breath.  
  
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE HERE! YOU'RE *FINALLY* HERE! And I've felt SO guilty for the past 4 years, you being angry, I turned you into a cripple, I ruined your life and then I just ran from you without offering any support and I'm so sorry and-" he continued with his rambling to that extent, seeming to get rid of a LOT that had been on his mind for the past years. Heero let himself be hugged for the 'speech', but after another long run-on sentence of pure blabber – though to Duo it was important to get out of his system – he cut in.  
  
"Duo."  
  
"And I thought you'd be angry at me and didn't go find the others either because I thought they'd be with you and-"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
"I'd have to face you and I was to scared and-"  
  
"DUO!!"  
  
Duo looked up from where his face was buried in Heero's stomach, and realized he'd been talking non-stop for the past few minutes without even drawing breath.  
  
"Yah?"  
  
"You talk too much." Heero ruffled Duo's hair lightly, messing it up again.  
  
"Really? Moi!?" Duo grinned teasingly and slid off the bed, skipping towards the door. After ranting on in run-on sentences like that, he felt he had enough energy to life a house. Without thinking he asked:  
  
"Come on! Breakfast, need, now, me, starving, come ooooon!" he bounced around in the general area of the door for a few seconds, while Heero gave him the time he needed to process what he'd just said, instead of giving him the embarrassment of being told. Rightly enough, Duo stopped his bouncing around soon after saying it.  
  
"Aa…" he slapped his hand on his forehead and dragged it down his face, looking out between his fingers at Heero, who was still lying in bed, unable to get up for the simple reason that he wasn't physically able to.  
  
"Doesn't matter." Hero said stiffly, trying to hide the scars of his wounded pride as best he could. He indicated with his head to the wheelchair next to the door, which Duo promptly rolled over to the side of the bed, and stepped back to allow Heero to get into it himself. Heero struggled to push himself up, quivering on his weak and wounded arms, dragging his upper body into the chair and letting his limp legs follow.  
  
"Want me to-"  
  
"No"  
  
"Aa." Duo watched as the former soldier took the wheels and pushed them into motion stiffly, a flicker of pain appearing across his face at the effort it involved. Heero wheeled himself carefully to the door and opened it, moving out of the dimly lit room.  
  
Duo followed him, regretting having brought up the subject of the paralysis. He wondered if he dared to ask Heero…ask him…if he wanted help. He didn't want to hurt him any more than he already was, or shift salt into wounds. He knew very well why he'd become a physiotherapist. He'd resolved to as soon as he'd fled out of Heero's room that night.  
  
/=/ Come on, coward…it'd be a waste if you didn't ask him, it's the goddamn reason for becoming a doctor…/=/ He shifted slightly where he stood waiting as Heero feebly struggled to open the sliding door that blocked his way. Watching the weak fingers grasp the handle, he sighed and gave in to himself.  
  
"Heero…"  
  
Heero's hand slipped from the handle, and he growled in frustration, clenching his fists.  
  
"I…can help." He let himself say, ready to back off if Heero took offence. To his surprise, Heero turned slightly in his chair to look at him without an angry scowl on his face or sharp words to dismiss the subject.  
  
"You don't have to. I've gotten used to it." He snapped mildly, but in a bitter and hurt voice. Duo shook his head and folded his arms firmly over his chest. He wasn't going to let Heero get away with it now, time had come for tougher measures.  
  
"Come on Heero, you know you'll never be happy if you can't walk. You're the Perfect Soldier. You're not happy."  
  
That hit Heero hard, and he turned away from Duo again, glaring angrily at the door that was barricading his way. A door, and he, Heero Yuy, couldn't move it. The reunion with Duo had meant everything to him, and for a moment he forgot the condition he was in. But it was too big a thing to forget about.  
  
"Hey…" Duo took a few quick steps towards the chair and kneeled down beside it, tilting Heeros chin up and forcing him to look upwards. He bit his lip at seeing the miserable face before him. Heero couldn't see past the pain his legs immobility caused him, it was always there, haunting him.  
  
"If you're not happy, neither am I." Duo stated firmly, watching the expression on the face show no change. Heero refused to reply, obstinate as he was.  
  
"Let me help." Duo pleaded. He hated seeing Heero so miserable. All it would take was a few months, possibly not even that, of physiotherapy. However serious the injury seemed, Duo was willing to give it a try. Better try than live on knowing you might have been able to do something.  
  
Help…  
  
He had stayed away from any sign of hospital or aid for four years. He refused to let anyone do anything for him, and lived his life as if he didn't have a disability at all. But it was always there, painfully obvious and clear. Nobody opened doors for him, went shopping for him, did anything that would remotely seem as 'help'. He wouldn't let them. He didn't want any pity.  
  
But this was Duo…  
  
Heero pushed himself back, leaving the door clear for Duo to open for him.  
  
  
  
A/N: Wheeeeeee! ^_^ He accepted hee-ee-lp ^_____^" Now to pull all loose ends together and end this fic…@_@ But..I don't want to! Ah, well, has to be done. ^^ 2 more chapters. Review, puh-leeeeease ^_^ Oh, and while you're at it, the next 'long' fic is "Alternate Reality", posted first chapter already. 


	14. Chapter 14 - Ai Shiteru.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
Strong hands wrapped themselves around the metal handles at the back of his wheelchair, and Heero bit his tongue in effort to let himself be wheeled through the door and onwards through the brightly lit corridor. It was still early, and the daily works of the hospital seemed not to have started up yet. He felt like an old man, in more ways than one, needing assistance and help with everything. It was disgusting, to Heero. He was no old man.  
  
They proceeded in silence. Heero would have said something nasty had he opened his mouth, and Duo didn't want to make him have to reply to anything. /=/ I'm happy…aren't I?/=/ Heero let doubt and questioning clutter his mind, distracting him from the 'old man' concept. He'd apparently looked serious, because he felt the knuckles of a smooth hand slide gently across his cheek, soothingly.  
  
/=/ Am I being ungrateful to a friend? /=/ he asked himself mentally. Duo was a great friend, the best. A friend…but…that wasn't all he was, really. It just hadn't been officially shown that he was beyond the boundary of 'friend', though both knew it in one sense or another. Heero's pride was the obstacle and always had been. And wounded pride is more of a hindrance than one intact. He let his eyes trail swiftly to the hand which was withdrawing from his cheek and a ghostly smile twitched the side of his mouth, but was held back from evolving into something greater.  
  
/=/ At least, I can help him…it's the least I can do. /=/ Duo thought to himself as he turned another corner, heading for the physiotherapy halls back closer to where his office was. If he couldn't have Heero, he'd at least sort out the problems he'd caused. Unblock his mind a bit from pain. Then maybe he'd gain his trust again…somehow. That's all he wanted, or rather all he could ask for, after what Heero had been through. It wasn't what he wanted, but to go by your own desires, is selfish.  
  
He halted in front of a double door, and pushed it open with his hips, wheeling Heero backwards inside and adding some speed so the doors wouldn't crush him as they came back. Heero cast a look around and furrowed his brows. He'd expected the boring hospital cafeteria.  
  
Duo crouched down next to him, smiling. Heero still looked slightly perplexed.  
  
"I said I'd help." Duo said kindly, never letting the smile fade off. Heero blinked as it occurred to him what the dual meaning of that statement had been.  
  
"You don't have to. I'm perfectly fine." He said bitterly. First he'd hid from the boy, and now he'd implied that he wasn't happy the way he was, EVEN after a long run-on apology?  
  
"Nah, you're not." Duo's smile remained, and he looked up at Heero sadly, who glared slightly in annoyance at both Duo and himself. He was being a bastard, and Duo was making it even more apparent.  
  
"C'mon, I'll help ya." The braided doctor wrapped his right arm securely around Heeros upper body and supported his feeling-less legs with the other, picking the light 01 up without much effort. It was almost as if he had anorexia or something. Heero didn't bother to struggle, and simply glared. First he was an old man, and now a baby? Someone was toeing the line.  
  
"I said I'm fine. Let me down. Omae o korosu." He snapped at the smiling face. Duo just shook his head firmly.  
  
"You can kill me when you're able to, ok?" He set Heero down on one of the many 'tables' – though these were covered by a thin pillow and looked more like a doctors examining table save their height.  
  
"What are you doing?" Heero said quietly as Duo forced him down with ease. He was too tired to resist anyway. He was aware of the long fingers running down his leg and taking his ankle in a gentle hold, bending the leg up and bringing it close to his chest. Heero looked up at Duo who was busily tending to his work of the long process of reparation of Heero's legs. Heero opened his mouth to speak, but found he didn't have any words left to voice. The cool touch against his scarred and pale skin felt so…comforting. Before he could open his mouth to protest, he felt warmth spreading through him, leaving only his skin shivering cold. Duo's hands moved skilfully to flex and extend the slack muscles of his legs in fluid movements.  
  
He was being given the help he needed, to rid himself of the burden of injured self-esteem and clear his blocked off vision. Then maybe, could he return to responding to what had been lurking in the back of his mind, unable to untangle itself from the complex webs there. From his experiences, he wouldn't be as cold as he'd been through the war. He didn't need to be. And he didn't want to.  
  
Duo's hand slid down his calf and pressed firmly into the defected muscles encased with the abnormally strong bone in thin skin. Bones, would never wear down. It was probably the only thing that had remained strong throughout. The skeleton, the core. But humans have two skeletons. That of the heart and mind added.  
  
Heero's eyes were sliding shut, and he accustomed quickly to Duo's light touch, seemingly rubbing life back into his flaccid limbs. Duo shot a glance at Heero, and smiled at the sight of the relaxed expression on his face. The thin legs creaked and whined at every movement, like old hinges of a door. Duo grimaced. This would take a long time. But there had been no permanent spinal injury as far as what Duo had seen from the hours of staring at Heero's brief medical files.  
  
His hands strayed to caress Heero's soft cheek lightly. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping…  
  
Duo's finger moved across Heero's lips, savouring the soft feel of tender skin under his fingers. Heero's breath streamed in calm even breathes from his nose. Bliss…total bliss…sleep…  
  
Heero regained some consciousness and opened one eye slightly, but not visibly enough to declare him awake. Duos radiant face was just above him. Duo smiled warmly at him, caressing the back of his neck slowly. Once again the words building in his mind found no way out of his mouth.  
  
And he wouldn't have been able to either. Without him consciously noticing it, Duo's lips grazed his lightly, remaining to issue a tender kiss, so soft and gentle. The doctor drew back silently and brushed a few solitary strands of hair away from the supposedly sleeping face. He drew a blanket up from the foot of the table and swept it over him, folding the material neatly at his neck and slowly backing away to survey the slumbering entity. He couldn't help but smile from ear to ear, something he'd rarely had reason to do in the past years. But now, he'd all the reasons in the world. It saddened him slightly, that Heero might be too scarred to ever return Duo's affections that he'd more than gladly show. But Heero was there. With him. Nothing else mattered.  
  
Despite that, Duo couldn't help but whisper quietly from the doorframe as he departed from the room, the only Japanese words he'd ever taken the careful time to learn properly.  
  
"Ai Shiteru, Heero…"  
  
He didn't need to be told in return. It was enough, that he let Heero know it straight out instead of through hints, even though he was probably asleep, Duo didn't know. Whether Heero did or did not acknowledge it didn't matter much. He was happy nonetheless. Duo quietly left the room on tiptoes, silent as a mouse, scurrying back to take care of business in his office.  
  
And Heero? He heard. He went to heaven and back for it. It's odd, how the Perfect Soldier can keep his silence, even through that. How he could restrain himself. But he was, after all, the Perfect Soldier.  
  
And he was loved.  
  
And even though the words came late and very quietly, they were still there, a clearly spoken whisper in the large empty room.  
  
"I love you too, Duo…"  
  
Then, the most harmonious and blissful sleep he'd ever had the pleasure of descending into, took over.  
  
  
  
A/N: ^.~;; Awww...only the ending chapter left now, but it'll most likely be a loooooong one =D *Sniffle* Must write a sequel to this..@_@ 


	15. Chapter 15 - An immortal picture.

Title: I Wonder What They're Doing Now  
  
Warnings: Er..stuff =D *blinks* Find out for yourself ¬¬  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the pilots or anything related to Gundam Wing ¬¬ *mumbles about injustice* If Duos Pikachu plushie were to suddenly appear somewhere in this fic, that is mine ^^  
  
  
  
Approximately half a year passed since that day in the physiotherapy hall. And to everyone's amazement, Heero was improving. The nerves in his leg were starting to respond again, and his muscles were returning to their former state, or at least a feeble reflection of what they used to be. But it was improvement. They were fitted with metal braces that allowed him some movement without his wheelchair.  
  
As often as he could, Duo forced him outside, and his pale skin took on a golden color. Often it was in his wheelchair, seeing as he was still too weak to walk far on his own. He let Duo take the job of wheeling him about in the cursed thing without protest. But only Duo. If anyone else so much as OFFERED to do it, he gave them the infamous Yuy Death Glare and hissed something nasty in their general direction.  
  
Duo hauled himself out of bed at five every single morning and ran full speed to Heero's house in time to watch him wake up. It'd been odd to begin with to Heero, seeing a smiling braided man grinning down at him whenever he opened his eyes. But he'd gotten used to it, and no measurement would accurately capture how appreciated it was.  
  
Surprisingly, they never said very much to each other. Most things were built on silence, very much contrasting times during the war. Events had taken that course, they supposed. And words weren't needed. They simply came in the way of what was really said, between hearts.  
  
Duo opened the door to Heero's apartment slowly, greeting Shinigami with a grin as the cat rubbed against his leg in a frenzy of purring. He tiptoed up the stairs and stole into Heero's dimly lit room. Heero was still asleep, as he usually was at five in the morning, lying like a polished China doll in his bed. He hadn't moved since Duo had tucked him into bed the day before. Silently he crept up to the side of the bed and peered down at the sleeping face nestled deep into the soft pillow.  
  
/=/ So peaceful…/=/  
  
He ran his finger down the bridge of Heero's nose, causing the sleeping ex- pilot to twitch slightly, and slowly force his eyes open. It was Duo's favourite thing to see. Heero looked completely void of all masks when he woke up, for the first few seconds of wakefulness.  
  
"Mornin' Sunshine." Duo grinned playfully at the grumpy glare he received for the comment as Heero stretched his aching limbs and shot a glance at the alarm clock. 5:10 am. He never got to sleep properly…but then again, waking up wasn't a bad option. He allowed himself to be helped with getting dressed, and was glad to be wheeled downstairs for a quick breakfast. Duo always seemed to be smiling pleasantly. And it was very contagious. Halfway through tidying his hair up slightly and settling into the wheelchair, a small smile was starting to twitch itself into existence at the corners of Heero's mouth. And the sun shone with warming rays of gold. The grey was gone.  
  
*  
  
  
  
"Heero?"  
  
"Hn."  
  
Duo simply smiled, and turned the corner into the green-tinged park. They'd been coming here almost every day. Heero seemed to enjoy the serenity, having been cooped up in his house for months on end. Even though he chose that to begin with.  
  
"What?" He didn't bother to turn in his wheelchair. Duo toyed with the short hair at the back of Heero's neck momentarily, contemplating whether or not to talk. Silence had built up to be their means of communication. It didn't get much across, but that was in essence the whole point. The question was left unanswered.  
  
/=/ I wonder what they're doing now…/=/ Heero's mind was swimming with thoughts. He dared not admit it, but he missed the old days. Sure, Duo was with him now. But even he was different. It was as if a part of Duo was with the other three pilots. A necessary part, something that would complete him. Puzzles usually consist of more than 2 pieces.  
  
It's funny how life seems to sometimes, in the rarest moments, pay attention to your thoughts. And rare still, is when it takes into account what they mean. And rarest of all, is when it makes a reality out of longing and dreams. Duo's eyes widened slightly, and he drew to an abrupt halt.  
  
"Duo?" Heero turned around this time, and seeing Duo's jaw having dropped a good centimetre or two. He didn't reply.  
  
"Duo…?" Heero tried again, frowning slightly. Duo raised a hand and pointed shakily at the three figures walking ahead of them. Quatre's blond hair was shining softly, and Wufei had his hands shoved into his pocket. Trowa was walking in the middle, as graceful and seemingly silent as he'd always been. Life was cooperating with them both. In the strangest of ways.  
  
Shinigami, who'd been resting on Heero's lap, abruptly leapt off and went off at high speed to catch up with the three pilots. Upon reaching Quatre, he was picked up and fondled, hugged and cradled like a baby. He cast a purple eye back to watch Heero and Duo both remain frozen and pawed lightly at Quatre's ear to get attention. As if it was his purpose to melt the ice that had built up in the four-year-old ice age.  
  
And a long silence reigned. Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei turned around and stared dumbfounded at Duo and Heero. Duo's eyes had grown to the size of plates. Heero was shifting uneasily in his chair, wanting to stand up tall and strong but not having the energy to do so. A mass of conflicting feelings and opinions seemed to rise into the air like the steaming breath of soldiers on a war front. The atmosphere was that of battle, but no battle was to take place. It was only the ghostly feeling that one took on before attack. The tension.  
  
A loud and somewhat annoyed 'meow' on Shinigami's part snapped the cord off with one high note. Duo blinked rapidly, clearing the non-existent fog in his eyes. Heero remained as silent as ever. As it had always been, for as long as any of them could possibly remember, Quatre was the one who found the courage to speak, setting Shinigami down in the process.  
  
"Hi…guys…"  
  
Silence slowly parted from the group, allowing them freedom of speech once again. But they remained deadly quiet. In a rewind and freeze version of time, but with so much changed. They didn't look the same. They didn't appear the same from the outside. Everything had changed drastically over the past four years. And here they were now, barely five steps from each other. And they did nothing.  
  
But Shinigami made a last desperate attempt. The small feline slithered to the ground, and bounded over to Wufei with a mission set clearly in his mind. Sharp canines found their way to Wufei's leg, biting down hard. Mission completed.  
  
"INJUSTICE!" Wufei cried and started hopping around on one leg, cursing madly. Four grown men stared at him in disbelief as he proceeded to chase Shinigami crazily around a tree. Four grown men look at Wufei, and back at each other. Four grown men, couldn't help but biting their lower lips in a futile attempt to suppress grins. Four grown men, Duo, Heero, Quatre, and Trowa, burst out laughing.  
  
Five grown men, turned into children again, caught up in the tangle of a massive hug.  
  
  
  
*  
  
"MAXWELL!" Wufei hissed angrily at Duo, who was in full show of devouring all that was left on the dinner table. Heero chipped in with a trademark "Omae o Korosu".  
  
"Come on guys, you're going to start a war!" Quatre pleaded from his corner of the table, clutching Trowas arm. Trowa was the only one who was calm, chewing idly on his vegetables and watching Heero and Wufei try to deathglare Duo into submission. Of course, it wasn't anywhere near working, as always. It almost seemed as if things were back to normal. In fact, they were. What change can time do to a group such as theirs?  
  
"I WILL start a war if that baka doesn't stop EATING!" Wufei yelled, grabbing at Duo's braid. Quatre hid behind Trowa at being snapped at, while Trowa was calm as can be.  
  
Nothing had changed.  
  
Quatre, in his hiding place behind Trowa, spotted a worn old camera lying on the bench behind him. Oh he remembered that last time it was used. He still had the photograph too. It was right before Heero's…accident. Right before they fled in different directions. He looked at the old camera in silence, and finally resolved to snatch it off the bench and hold the cold plastic in his hand. An idea formed in his mind, and he whirled around brandishing the camera.  
  
"PHOTOGRAPH!"  
  
Massive déjà vu. Apparently all five of them felt it, because a session of rapid blinking followed. Duo dropped the chicken leg he was stealing from Wufei onto the Chinese's head, and laughter erupted from the table again.  
  
"Come on guys, we need a decent photograph. You looked as if you had sat on a needle in the last one!" Duo joked, grinning at the snarl he received from the general direction of Heero.  
  
Quatre busied himself with setting the camera up on the edge of the table, working quickly to position it adequately on an empty plate. Luckily, there was a good new roll of film. Trowa stood up and took Wufei by the arm to prevent him from tearing Duo to bits and led him up to the front of the camera. Wufei immediately sat down on the floor, followed by Quatre who bounced over to the 'photography area' a few seconds later, readying himself to hold up two fingers behind Wufei's head as was his custom in almost all photographs. Trowa shook his head and smiled weakly, standing behind them with folded arms.  
  
"Come on Heero, pleeeeeeease?" Duo whined, getting down on his knees beside Heero's chair, and making irresistible puppy dog eyes.  
  
"No."  
  
"Please please pleeeeeease?" He whined again, and somehow managed to make his eyes take on a glassy exterior. Heero bit his lip and tried not to look at the very cute-looking face that was begging him.  
  
"No…no…oh, FINE!" He snarled, and Duo did a victory dance around the table, while Heero hoisted himself out of the chair and stood quite balanced on his braced legs. He took a cautious step forward, and slowly, stiffly, made his way to stand beside Trowa. He stood well on his own, and had it not been for the metal braces helping his legs stay upright, no one would have noticed his disability.  
  
"Duo! Come on!" Quatre was itching to get yet another funny photo taken, and was musing over what kind of reaction he would get from Wufei once it was developed. Chinese bunny, once again.  
  
Duo walked over to stand beside Heero, and draped an arm over the Japanese mans shoulder, nuzzling his neck. Heero shivered slightly at the contact of breath with his skin, ticklish as he was, and put a steadying arm around Duo's shoulder, having slight trouble standing up on his own. Duo smiled happily and let Heero's weight lean on him. Quatre started the ten-second countdown for the automatic camera.  
  
Duo leaned over slightly and put his lips to Heero's ear.  
  
"Heero…are you happy?"  
  
Wufei and Trowa joined in the countdown, which was currently on five. Heero let a small grin play across his lips. It slowly formed itself into a full- hearted smile, reaching from ear to ear, with a radiating glow of contentment. He hugged Duo's shoulder tightly and said in a voice barely over a whisper.  
  
"I'm happy, Duo."  
  
And the blinding white flash of the camera went off, to seal that second of time in immortality.  
  
  
  
Owari ^^  
  
A/N: I finally managed to finish this fic…o_O Took me long enough! ^_^ I like this fic, actually. A bit slow, but still. It's not half bad. Long too..o_O ^______^ Hope ya liked it! 


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